Alexa
A silent tear slips my eyes and I swallow in my cries, my vision blurred, all I see is the pain, all I inhale is the harsh niff of tobacco, yet all I can do is sit here in a disoriented manner like I've just broken a spine and distract my painful thoughts with the sound of the ticking clock on the wall.
I sense his presence first, then I see the shadow-like figure of his boots, and then I feel his gaze rest on me. It is an itchy feeling, one of great discomfort, but I try not to pay attention to the racing of my heart, zoning deeply into the slow and steady rhythm of the clocks music.
His voice comes out softly, groggily rough but soft with his manner of approach. "Your name girl, your name