To most, Sentinel would have felt like a over-bearing brother, following her here and there and just seeming to stare at people. To Jinx though, Sentinel was her shadow. He was always there for her and just his presence calmed her and kept her mind to the day and time where she was instead of lingering back into the past. It was the lingering that was dangerous when it came to Jinx, because when her mind wander she forgot he was dead and she forgot that she was alright and untouched. Instead she was again just the frightened little quiet girl in the corner, waiting for the next destruction of her spirit and her body. Then he was everyone and everyone was him and she only had one goal. He had to die.
Although she pretended not to remember anything that she had done to those undeserving in the past, she had been caught in the lie more than once. It was easier to cast all those who had fallen by her own hand, rather than admit that she couldn't control herself or that in the end she just liked the power of it all. Standing in front of the brightly coloured merchant though, Jinx was the essence of a light hearted young soul, with a vibrancy that most would imagine meant she had been sheltered to everything bad in the world. No one ever imagined that the pale and beautiful young lady that dressed like she was from the 50's might be one of the bad people in the world.
"What are the colors of life? Could be black for the endless strife. Red symbolizes the color of the heart, Where cupid strikes with his tameless dart. The sky may be blue, maybe gray, Shows how life can change day by day. Yellow in sunlight & spring flowers, I bask in them, hour upon hour. Green as the emerald sea, Brings peace of mind & tranquility. Angels with wings of white, Lift me off my feet to flight.
Can you tell me what are the colors of your life?"
Smiling, Jinx versed a short poem by the poet Rini, before actually answering his question. "I think I would like a new skirt, but I'm not sure what colour..." Tilting her head to the side slightly she ran her fingers through some of the skirts that were lying out. "I like a longer skirt... and movement is important, because as my mother use to say. 'A skirt is cause and effect... without the right effect there will be no cause worth wearing it to.'" It was one of her mother's quirky little sayings from her youth that she had remembered so well; a piece of light amongst the darkness of her childhood that shone with the other memories like that one.