And

      She didn't even attempt to sleep that night. That red-shaded voice murmured at the back of her mind; the neglected day-be-gone flickers of wordless recollections of childhood, of music and silence. It tore her to admit that before everything- at the forgotten beginning, in those distant moments- there were times that she used to relish in what she was- of what she was capable. 

        The pale light of the moon was strong enough the cast a dull reflection of herself against the window, her eyes tracing over what was supposed to be her face- what was her face. She pushed her forehead against the cold glass, her eyes gazing deeply into their reflection like somehow she would understand herself if she had an outside perspective. The sky began to slowly lighten, the horizon bleeding gold that seemed to push away the heavy ink night. 

        For a moment, a flash