"Sales! Sales! Sales!"
We don't have enough money to buy medicines. My sister plays in the dirt, on the floor, her hair's an unique patch of loaves and dust; My mother spends everything she earns as waitress to buy Shadow Islands fruits... and there she is: on the broken armchair, her gaze lost in space, those pale and sharp fruits in her hand, a bobbin thread coming down from her mouth, watering the wrinkle web on her face. In the room, in the closed room, among the smell of urine and bed bugs, there's my father. He has been ill for a few weeks, leaving me alone....I can't take care of everyone. He loses blood, he continually loses blood, and I don't know what to do, but to wash his sores with these stinky nuts... he planned to take us to Piltover... there it will be better, there things are going to be better. He hid the money.... where did you put the money, dad? Where? Please, speak to me.
We don't have enough money for medicines.
And she'll come back tonight, she'll come back every night until she'd have taken him away.
My sister fell asleep, half-face covered with ash. I have to bring her in the room before the candle goes off, I have to close her in.
It's night. I think she came in, again. I tend my ear as much as possible: I hear nothing, but the usual creaking of the floor, and the continuous and frustrating drowsiness of moisture drops that scratch the wood, imperceptible but penetrating. I try to sleep. Maybe tonight she doesn't come back. I still hold the knife under the pillow.
The lament is harrowing. Like every night, it enters my heart and causes me to burst. This lament is agonizing. I know she's over the door, I see the gloomy and white light filter from the slits, from the lock. I get up, the knife in my hand. My hand shakes, I push the door. The White Lady weeps, she cries again. My mother is still on the armchair. She's standing there, bright as a moon. Do not look into my eyes, please. At her feet, a blood-filled pool ... she's washing my father's clothes in blood.
Go away! - I scream. What do you want from us? What?
Her hair is black and liquid....she slowly raises her head and looks, staring, at me. I fall in the black pitch lake of his eyes. The unbearable scream continues eternal in my ears. I kick the knife instinctively, I try to lock my father's door. I can't hurt her. Her mouth opens and shines of an evil light. I continue to fall in her eyes, the weeping destroying my timpani.
I am sitting in a forest full of strawberries, the sunset light strikes the clearing where I am. Just before the trees, bodies of purulent animals ... ah, no, wait, it's my family. I sit on a white rock, it's a gravestone. My name is ruined by time.
I Yell, it starts to rain, and I continue to scream, to fall.
I am a finely dressed princess, my hair gathered under a precious gemstone tiara. I drink Tea, compoundedly lying on a rococo sofa, near me there are marquises, contesses. I look at the cup, and I find out that it is blood what I'm about to drink. From the teapot, on the coffee table, nasty insects and creatures start coming out. The nobles sitting near to me have become pale, covered with molds and mushrooms, their eyes injected with blood. They bend with their feet firmly on the floor. BAM! BAM! BAM!
knock, knock, knock. KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK.
I wake up, on the floor. Have I dreamed everything? The knife is stucked in the wall .. drops of blood are on the ground. Somebody knocks. I open. "We are from the Health union of Runeterra. The pharmacist has informed us that a very sick man lives here .. you must be his daughter." "Yes, but we do not have any money for the medicines." "Oh, my dear, but we are here for this, we help poor people to move on, we are very charitable. Now, can we see your dad?" "S-Sure, he's in that room." Strangers have long coats, they look rich. "What a picturesque home" They enter my father's room. "Oh, heaven, it may be too late! This man must be hospitalized and surgically operated in the daytime, it's fundamental! Come with us, honey." A magic portal opens in our house. I wake my sister up, I drag her with one arm.
It's night again. I do not know where we are; the building is great, there are many people here, and no one seems poor. My sister played a bit in the garden with a nice girl, while I was talking to doctors. She now sleeps in my arms as I stare at the door beyond which my father is working. I hear a lament, very strong. Is she? Again? An ancestral and dreary song... A flash of pale light... A doctor comes out and looks at me. "Your dad didn't make it, I'm sorry....he's dead. You have to go." I'm upset, I tremble, I would cry, I cry, I'm pushed into a portal, These men have no pity, Dad, I want to bury you,
And it is dust... again.
Institute of War, Central Corridor, Wing East.
"Ah, this old man sprayed blood everywhere, he spotted all the cloths."
"This week put the Banshee Veil at half price, then"
**
Sales! Sales! Sales! Outbreaks in the arenas of justice!
Banshees' Veils at half price in the Rift's Shop, Summoners!**
..
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(Chronicles of Valoran, V)
Previous Chapter: https://boards.na.leagueoflegends.com/en/c/skin-champion-concepts/dP8AQJ9a-sealed-lips