AZANA LAY WITH her head curled up against her pillows. Her legs were tucked up like a ball, as if the smaller she squeezed herself, the less she or anyone else would notice her feelings.
A damp, whispery feeling frowned at her from inside the perimeters of her heart; its displeased stare made her squirm. She tried to let the internal critic melt away, to let its cold, critical glare wash away. But it was harder than it looked.
Whimpering into hands, she snuggled into her pillow. The brilliant blue cotton filled her eyes and she let that fill her mind. Rather than the prickling sense of shame and the vindictive voices that sang so prettily that she was terrible inside.
Written: 27 Nov 2015
Inspired: Azana + personal feelings
A/N: yes, I know “whispery” isn’t really a word, but I wanted to use it anyway