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Snippet #2310932

located in Sweetwood Manor, a part of Sweetwood Hospital for the Mentally Unstable, one of the many universes on RPG.

Sweetwood Manor

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Character Portrait: Penelope Cartwright
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Pen sat at the top her bed, legs crossed underneath her as she appeared to be speaking to someone sitting at the end of her bed. "Greg, I told you that you shouldn't have gone to that party," her eyes were beginning to red as tears filled in them, though none fell. It was almost three AM, and it was only times like this that she saw her brother. Baby sister, you'll be okay without me. I know going to that party was... the stupidest thing I've ever done. I shouldn't have left you. Only a few tears fell from her eyes, though it was then that her brother slowly began to vanish. The girl reached her hand out to try and touch him, though when he was completely gone she let her hand drop. It landed on her guitar now, which she remembered setting down when her brother had arrived. With a sigh, she picked it up again.

And all I can taste is this moment/And all I can breathe is your life/'Coz sooner or later it's over/I just don't want to miss you tonight

Her voice was soft and beautiful, though not loud enough to carry outside of her room. Only guitar music could be heard, and soon a nurse peeked into her room and asked her to put the guitar down. With a small nod she did, continuing to hum quietly as she went to her desk. On her desk was a single sketchbook, a drawer inside the desk held all of her sketch pencils and colors, and there was a light hanging from the ceiling that she turned on if the big light was too bright for her eyes. Flicking the switch, she summoned up an image of her brother and began to draw.

By the time she heard Addison running past her room, she was just finished her sketch. It was completely black and white, like most of her pictures. Sometimes she felt the need to pin these up on her wall, but never had she actually done so. Each wall was still a blank black color, no scratch or picture on them. Four hours it had taken her to finish, since she estimated Addy ran by at around seven. The poor nurses had to deal with that crazy girl... sometimes she thought she was the most normal one here. All she had to deal with was insomnia, and occasionally seeing her dead brother. It was clear to her that he was dead, though his image still haunted her. It wasn't like she hadn't heard the doctors whispering about her possibly going crazy, but just the fact that she knew he wasn't real was a sign she wasn't. Sighing, she opened her book to another page and began to sketch again, this time drawing whatever came to mind.