The first thing I see is white. It is blindingly pure and I have to raise a hand to shield my eyes. When the light fades, I blink 8 times, trying to grasp my surroundings.
The room I stand in is warmed por the flames dancing in the fireplace. A burgundy sofá sits on the flowered Persian rug, accompanied por two arm chairs and a glass coffee table.
The pregunta "Where am I?" leaves my mind in that glance. It is replaced by "Why?" and más urgently "How?". I walk cautiously adelante, hacia adelante and run a hand over a bookshelf crowded with thick encyclopedias and vibrant fairytales.
This place.
This house were I lived as a young child, where my father taught me to ride a 2-wheeler in the driveway and my mother filled with the scent of baking chocolate with an horno full of brownies.
This house.
This inicial had burned, been consumed por angry red and naranja and yellow, greedily reducing little más than mournful grey crumbs. I saw the feasting with my own eyes, watched it again and again in haunting nightmares.
And suddenly, a woman enters the room. She is me, twenty years from now. Though her hair is straighter, shorter than the waves that cascade down my back. Her eyes are a clearer, bluer sky than my storm-clouded greys. And something else. Something about the way she holds herself says she has seen too much, but her warm smile suggests she has learned to forgive and accept unchangeable memories.
"Mom?" my voice cracks as I speak a word beyond my vocabulary, stolen from me por those hungry devourers from Hell.
"Aryess." The voice, the way she speak my name, so familiar, so living, ringing every note of the measure, sends a shock through my body and freezes me where I stand. It's her. It's impossible. It makes sense to me in only one form.
"Am I dead?"
The room I stand in is warmed por the flames dancing in the fireplace. A burgundy sofá sits on the flowered Persian rug, accompanied por two arm chairs and a glass coffee table.
The pregunta "Where am I?" leaves my mind in that glance. It is replaced by "Why?" and más urgently "How?". I walk cautiously adelante, hacia adelante and run a hand over a bookshelf crowded with thick encyclopedias and vibrant fairytales.
This place.
This house were I lived as a young child, where my father taught me to ride a 2-wheeler in the driveway and my mother filled with the scent of baking chocolate with an horno full of brownies.
This house.
This inicial had burned, been consumed por angry red and naranja and yellow, greedily reducing little más than mournful grey crumbs. I saw the feasting with my own eyes, watched it again and again in haunting nightmares.
And suddenly, a woman enters the room. She is me, twenty years from now. Though her hair is straighter, shorter than the waves that cascade down my back. Her eyes are a clearer, bluer sky than my storm-clouded greys. And something else. Something about the way she holds herself says she has seen too much, but her warm smile suggests she has learned to forgive and accept unchangeable memories.
"Mom?" my voice cracks as I speak a word beyond my vocabulary, stolen from me por those hungry devourers from Hell.
"Aryess." The voice, the way she speak my name, so familiar, so living, ringing every note of the measure, sends a shock through my body and freezes me where I stand. It's her. It's impossible. It makes sense to me in only one form.
"Am I dead?"
age:18
alias:goodgirl
power(s):sings música that controls her enemy,levitation,and *bloodance
civvies:black and blue dress(changes her outfits a lot)
herocostume:long black and blue dress black boots
BG story:park ran away from inicial at the age of 6,because she did not like her parents and a nice young lady took her in for a while and taught Park how to play paino and violin and she learned that she had a great gift to música and had grown powers that came from her music,so she then joined the young justice kids,and became Goodgirl.
<3<3<3 hope tu liked it :)
*bloodance is when she plays her violin really fast and makes the villain dance so much he starts to bleed to death.