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I AM sorrow's sister. You'll feel me in the quiet moments, in the absence of all things lovely.
In the abandonment of prosperity I'll thrive, I am sorrow's sister.
IRENE sat in the quiet company of the trees; plucking pieces of grass from the ground. What started as a short bathroom break— turned into her wandering around the woods near camp.
As the hours in the day started to dwindle, the heat became more and more tolerable. The temperature wasn't as jarring, and a faint breeze fluttered throughout camp now. It was one of the better evenings they've had.
She wasn't supposed to be out this far. It wasn't close enough for full comfort, but it wasn't far enough for her to be worried either. It walked the line of dangerous, which almost felt comforting to the brunette.
Now resting up against a tree, she looked down at her fingertips. Her dirty nails made her mouth twitch and form a look of disgust. She missed soap.
Her hands searched her pockets, going from one to the other after she was greeted with emptiness. Irene took out one cigarette she had hidden the last time she wore these jeans, it was only mildly smushed.
Her lighter usually remained in the tent, but before she left, Irene had snuck it out in hopes of a smoke break as well. This one wasn't from Daryl, she had stolen it from Ed when he wasn't looking.
There was no guilt though, she had no sympathy for the man. He angered her immensely, all he did was smoke and lounge around lazily. He didn't help the camp or anyone for that matter. Earlier that day she wanted to take Sophia on the walk with her and Carl, but he wouldn't allow her to leave his side. It boggled Irene as to why someone who seemed so bothered by his own family, forced their company.
She took out the dainty silver lighter, its exterior scuffed and scratched from its old age. She didn't remember when she took it. It belongs to her step father— belonged, to her step father. it was just one of those things that became hers.
For a fleeting moment her eyes fell into the flame. Its warmth swarming in her irises. She always liked fire. When she was a kid, one of the first houses she lived in had a fire pit in the backyard. Sometimes her step father would bring back this special stuff, even now she didn't know exactly what it was... He'd put it in the fire and it would turn all different colors.
It amazed her each and every time without fail. Her favorite was always when it changed to green. She thought it was the most "magic" looking shade. While her logic around that had matured, she still wished she could make this flame green too.
