She sleeps on the floor when she first moves in.

It's that she not-wants to, or that they not-force her. She's maybe not-sure, probably not-fifteen, but she knows that she's not-feeling, good or otherwise.

It seems strange to her - because they all are the same, in a way like some other-bodies. They're fourteen soulless shells.

Except you don't have a soul. You are a soul. You have a body.

(So what does that leave them missing?)

They're fourteen soulless shells and fourteen not-feeling not-hearts. They look less not-alike than their counterpart-companions. They're all water and memories and lightning and life and death watered ever so steadily down (to-the-groundgroundground).

There are a few not-anomalies. Like.

let-it-burn, burn, burn framing the-devil-does-jealous eyes asking/answering what's-it-worth/nothing-to-be-missed-because-I-/wouldn't

But mostly, they're fourteen soulless shells and fourteen not-feeling not-hearts, each one as not-good as the other. Sometimes she looks at them all and thinks

(too-young-to-be-so-old, in every way that it might mean)

of thoughts and names and roses that aren't as sweet

(looking at her reflection in the white, white room love for serenity, respect for purity, courage for silence, passion for innocence? because that's the only time she feels like she's not-wrong)

because any other name is not-right.

They're all not not-friends, but she does not-think she does not-belong because the end of summer is near.

She's not-sad. She does not-know that when the villain/hero comes to save the witch/princess from the not-evil but not/heartless not-friends, she will not-cry.

So why-

let-it-burn, burn, burn framing the-devil-does-jealous eyes asking/answering what's-it-worth/nothing-to-be-missed-because-I-/wouldn't

should it-

washed-out-left-to-dry, dry, dry tainted by it's: not my faultproblem so pleasedon't let me fix it

bother-

washed-out-left-to-dry, dry, dry crying save me, save me while let-it-burn, burn, burn framing the-devil-does-jealous eyes screaming i'm-trying-so-just-let-me

her.

It's that she does not-belong, or that they not-make her. She's maybe not-crying, probably not-correct, but she knows that she's not-feeling, right or otherwise.

She sleeps on the floor when she first moves in.