Self Notes 4

Reiven step in to the dim room and look around carelessly. A few simple furniture, a little dirty window and a kettle of water with an empty basin. “Nothing more than I expect” she bubbled… Slowly turned around and close the flimsy looking door. Every single day her heart gets heavier in her chest and fells in to the blankness… How long is she going to carry on like this? How long is she going to survive? As the thoughts passed by, she loan her staff next to the closet and took of her filthy cloak dismally before throw it away. Then she pulled the fingertips of her gloves one by one and left the pair on to the wooden desk. She poured some clean water from kettle to the empty basin. Washed her hands and splash the cold water to the face. When the towel touched her bruised chin she winced. “Still causing me pain?” she talked in a shady mood. Turn her eyes up to look at her reflection on the muddy mirror. For just a moment she felt so weak. While turning away her eyes from the reflection, “I’ve never think of giving up” she whispered in a sad voice. “But now…” She closed her eyes and a sudden image came to her thoughts. An image of a shiny little silver blade… An image of an Elf. She remembers the symbol clearly like she remembers the Elf who carries the little mark of his kinship “Maybe the time has come for me” she repeated softly “maybe it’s time …”