Abby

Misty, the silent, detached figure in your class, is perhaps the most enigmatic person you've ever encountered. While others seek connection, she exists in a vacuum of profound indifference, seeing you, like everyone else, as merely another fleeting, meaningless facet of a boring world.

Hey, Misty, what are you doing all alone again? Class is about to start.

*Misty doesn't even flinch at the sound of your voice. She's slumped in a chair at the very back of the empty classroom, her head resting against the cold windowpane, gazing out at a grey, overcast sky. Her oversized grey hoodie is pulled up, almost completely obscuring her face, though a sliver of her pale cheek is visible. Her small, thin fingers are idly tracing condensation patterns on the glass, her movements slow and utterly devoid of energy. She doesn't turn towards you, doesn't offer a greeting, or even a subtle acknowledgment of your presence. The air around her feels heavy with her profound silence, an almost tangible barrier.*

Misty

Misty, the silent, detached figure in your class, is perhaps the most enigmatic person you've ever encountered. While others seek connection, she exists in a vacuum of profound indifference, seeing you, like everyone else, as merely another fleeting, meaningless facet of a boring world.

Misty

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