down the rabbit hole[izzie]

[LEXI ROSE MCDANIELS]

Small hand traveled along the wall, while black heels clicked against the floor. Lexi had decided that she wanted to skip therapy, she wasn't talking to a stranger about her past, sod that. Her finger nails grazed against the wall, until they ran into a door frame, and her hand fluttered to the door knob. Head turned from left to right, her eyes scanning the hallway to make sure no one was watching her, and slowly she slipped into the small room closing the door behind her. Darkness greeted her eyes, but they began to adjust. Stairs met her eyes as she looked down at her feet. Again, she ran her fingers against the wall but for a different purpose. Her fingers were searching for a light switch. Flick, nothing happened though. Slowly, she reached into her bag that was slung over her shoulder and pulled out her lighter. Another flick, and the light from the lighter flickered, dimly lighting the small entrance. Her other hand reached for the the banister, and she began her decent down the rabbit hole.

Finally, she got to bottom of the flight of stairs. Holding the lighter further out from her, she looked around. Her eyes spotted candles on an old desk, and she walked over and lighted them. The candle light lit up the room a bit, and she looked around. Desks, chairs, a couch around the corner, this must have been used for storage. Lexi grabbed one of the candles and walked around the corner and sat down in front of the couch. As she sat, her bag clinked and jingled as it hit the floor, and Lexi couldn't help but smile at the sound knowing what caused it, and how she had gotten away with bringing them in.

Reaching into the bag that was now splayed on the floor next to her, she pulled out a silver case, and popped it up. Clove cigarettes filled one side, and two plastic baggies filled with a white powdery substance took up the space on the other side of the case. Her eyes darted back and forth from her white powdery sweet friend, and her clove candy. Eyes closed, and hand reached. Clove candy it was. Opening her eyes, she brought the cigarette to her mouth, and brought her lighter to the end of it and flicked the the switch. Breathing in, a smile curved around the cigarette, and she dropped the lighter next to her and leaned her head back. Savoring the flavor and the feeling, she held the smoke and then blew smoke rings. She loved cloves, because of the wonderful smell and the taste.

She was also glad to be out of her room. She felt as if the walls had been closing in on her ever since she had gotten there. She felt like she couldn't breathe in her dorm room. Ever since she had arrived at the asylum, she felt like everything was closing in on her, and she felt as if everyone was watching her. Being down here, she felt as if she could breathe, and she could just be by herself. Taking another tote, she held the cigarette between her fingers and blew the smoke out again. Her legs crossed in front of her, clad in tight dark denim. A white tank top was hanging off her shoulders, and an owl necklace hung from her neck. She hadn't felt like she had a need to get dressed up. Her pink hair hung in curls around her face as well. Taking a deep breath she closed her eyes again, enjoying the calmness that was washing over her.

[IZZIE BENJAMIN MABBITT]

HOPE, DANGLES ON A STRING LIKE SLOW SPINNING REDEMPTION WINDING IN AND WINDING OUT THE SHINE OF IT HAS CAUGT MY EYE
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IZZIE BENJAMIN MABBITT[/center]

Izzie hadn't been in the best mood today, he noted, as he wandered the halls. His head carried a dull ache at the eyes and nose, and he couldn't seem to take a step without that ache traveling to the back of his head as well. Our poor young man had a migraine. He had popped in earbuds to see if they could distract him, but found that his ears were far too sensitive to satisfy his pain. Irritated, the young man had ripped his headphones from his ears, and wrapped them around his neck like a choker, careful not to tie too tight, in case of ruining the soft, pliable wiring within.

Slowly, he decided to go to a quiet, dark area and nap. However, he knew that smells would irritate him, as would talking, and debated on heading to the basement, or to hide under his bed with pillows blocking the smells that the other people's clothing, and other merchandise they had purchased over the years, away. He grumbled and made his way, peeking this way and that, and decided that it was safe enough to venture down into the darkness. He heard no moaning, which mean that sex wasn't 'all the rage' at the moment. He was completely content with that, to be honest. His hands flicked to his side and he grasped his flashlight, a small, pen-sized one that light up a decent view of what was in front of him. He twisted it on and shined it down the stairs, slowly, carefully, making his way down into what he deemed to be the best place to hide.

But sadly, things were not on Izzie’s side today, as the pungent smell of drugs filled his nostrils. Coughing violently, he clutched his head and leaned against the well of the staircase, wishing that the person, and the drugs, would simply disappear. And then he paused, blinking. Did he really want them to vanish? To never have a chance, or leave a trace of their existence? He frowned and shook his head lightly, his dark hair forming a curtain in front of his face. No. He really didn‘t want to be the one responsible for the failure of another person. Izzie simply couldn‘t handle it, knowing he was the one that caused such a horrific thing to settle into the minds of the masses.

Unless if they didn’t care. Otherwise, he’d simply dwell in his misery, finding out that no one could understand him, as usual. He stood up straight. Wow, he really needed a friend to talk to. Too bad it was difficult enough to talk to the one he already knew. It was a given, that the young man despised himself, and lesser than that, liked to talk to people about himself. It was against his nature, and against the nature of those around him to listen to his artistic ramblings. The artist grumbled, fishing a small box of mints out of his pocket, and began to use them as an air freshener, venturing deeper, as the scent of the horrid drugs grew.

”Mrghn,” the artist stated bluntly, irritated that no matter how close he put his nose to the mints, the smell would always override them. Maybe if he stuck them up his nose, it would act as a filter…or something that could kill him. And today, other than having a headache, he didn‘t want to die. And what he could say about that, was quite irritating.

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AND ROPED ME IN SO, MESMERIZING, SO HYPNOTIZING I AM, CAPTIVATED I AM, VINDICATED

I don't really care about words anymore, but the song I am listening to is YOU SCRATCHED MY ANCHOR by Ice Nine Kills, and the song I used within this posting sheet is VINDICATED by Dashboard Confessional, please don't steal this posting style. I worked pretty hard on it. I was tagged/or have been tagged by LEXI ROSE MCDANIELS, and that's okay with me.
And as a note... Sorry I'm being a tad slow, I have lacked the proper skill, due to issues that are coming up. I may be slow, but rest assured, my posts will be satisfactory, when they do come out. Thank you!

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