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Myrina's chestnut hair blew in the breeze as she walked behind the funeral procession. Her hazel eyes unseeing. Someone was leaning on her.

"Always  the strong one, that Myrina" she heard people say as she walked past.

But Myrina wasn't strong. She just had no more tears left to shed. It was only 3 months ago that she was told of her husband's disease. 3 months of fighting- of being told he would be coming home soon.

Only he never came home.

After she got the phot call, she ran to her car, driving so fast she broke speed limits and ran a red light. She knew something was wrong.

When she arrived, they wouldn't let her in. Her mother in law who was also there said "He's gone isn't he."

"No" Myrina said.

The nurse just looked at the two women in front of her, a grim face as she nodded once. Myrina collapsed into the arms of her other mother. "No, no, no, no, no, no…" They moved her to a waiting room as she cried out her anger, tears, and pain. "He was coming home. No. He's not gone." She sobbed.

Everything from then is a blur. He was gone. How did this happen? Why did this happen.

The funeral passed slowly. She was handed a folded flag, an honor since her husband fought in the war. She didn't want it. She wanted her husband.

After it was over, she went home and laid in bed. What do you know? More tears.

But this was different. Her eyes burned as her anger, fear, grief and love all surged within her. Her tears hurt. She screamed in rage… then all was black.

She woke to a destroyed room. Everything was thrown around. Her pillow was on the ceiling fan? But she didn't care. Her face was stiff from the salt of all the tears she cried. I'm done crying, she thought to herself.

She walked into the bathroom and washed her face… and fell back after seeing her reflection. Her chestnut hair was gone, replaced with silver. Her eyes were still hazel, but they held a spark. A spark. Shit. She felt the humming under her skin. It was always there, but this was different. It was alive. She focused on the feeling and felt the heat of an embrace wash over her. Magic. She didn't know how she knew, but she knew what it was.

She pulled on a pair of black faded jeans and a red boat neck t-shirt. She packed a duffel bag with a long sleeve shirt, her jacket, and some basic necessities. Then she left. She didn't want anyone to see her this way. After all, a Gypsy Witch hadn't manifested in over a hundred years. She was not about to be some science experiment. She left, not knowing where she was going, not telling anyone where she was headed. She just knew she had to leave.
Myrina's Story

Background Story of my OC Myrina
:iconskindral:
skindral Featured By Owner Feb 13, 2012
:ohnoes: This is not a nice beginning to a story at all. Myrina is a tragic heroine -- I hope she'll be alright! But, for now it seems she's on the run.

This is really gripping, can't wait to see where her story goes!
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:icontinyangel21:
TinyAngel21 Featured By Owner Feb 13, 2012  Hobbyist Digital Artist
tragedy is a part of life... and the tragedy is what forced her to embrace her magic.
Reply
:iconskindral:
skindral Featured By Owner Feb 14, 2012
I guess it is -- so at least it gives her strength on the long run.
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