Frances The Mute.
It was the worse way to decide. The thickening plot of a unfiltered situation was brewing up something terrifying.She braced her head against her shoulders and crept forward onto the stage. She was already wound up in barbed wire mess. It wasnít as though this was considered a unorthodox performance, they had all straightened there spines and stood up-rite the best they could, but the possibility of immortality was to intense to pass up anyways. In the crowd there were cutout faces, and under the spot light, there was a white hole drilled in the vacant darkness, she decided to test its depth. Her words trembled and smashed open into the silence. ďIím sorry... I wish I could change what I have changed, and I wish I could re-write our upcoming history, I havenít been able to face these thoughts in which I am confined. Please forgive me.Ē The words cut the air like diamonds, and only left emptiness for everyone to breath. There was no emotion in the paper mouths tonight. Sure they could hear her, but the fact of the matter is no one cared enough to blink at the fragile figure standing solitary on her nest of crows.