Most of the days Amabile would be exactly as she was today. Tired, grumpy, unmotivated, depassionate. As the last girl remaining, she didn’t feel proud or earnful. She was just tired of all that shit.
Sleeping didn’t prove to be the time to rest as promised, ans she was having problems trying to close her eyelids as night. The vision was still too intense. Closing her eyes was like pressinh play over the video recorder and watching a grotesque movie all over again.
And when Amabile finally managed to sleep, she had night mares and not rarely night terrors as well.
Maybe that was the reason Amabile was always grumpy. She couldn’t remember the last time she actually slept and dreamed of something good. But anyway, did being grumpy bother her? Not really. She then cast her reflections aside.