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((OOC--hope I'm not doing anything wrong here; not sure exactly how stuff is done on this site))
Cinnamon strolled through the cemetery, at peace with the world. She found tranquility among the dead, for some reason. Live people could rarely understand her.
Singing a soft threnody as she paced the graves, she reminded herself briefly of her old mistress, Pumpkin, who was the type to tango on graves. Cinnamon was different, however; she sang from joy at all being right with the world, not as a sign of rebellion. At least, not in a cemetery.
Just as her song was ending, she heard a sharp sound behind her.
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Listen dear I need you to hear I cannot disappear, I've tried again and again and again and again... Every day I crucify myself--Nothing I do is good enough for you
Her soul was tortured by love and by pain; she surely would flee but the oath made her stay.
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Melancholy Joy
