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[sub][i]Featuring: [color=2e8b57]Lillian Henry[/color][/i][/sub][/center]

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So, that just happened. Lillian Henry, the self-proclaimed savior of BHHS was just punched by one of the biggest pariahs at the school. Lillian didn’t know how to feel about the fact that Camille Winters pretty much broke her nose. The creature that called itself a woman sure packed a punch -- and Lillian was still feeling that all these hours later. Sitting in her room, she had an ice pack on her nose, trying to mitigate the swelling that had come up as a result of the battery she was subjected to not too long ago. Did she deserve it? Yeah, she did. Lillian might not have agreed, but plenty of people would want to say otherwise. As a matter of fact, 99.9999% of the student body would have agreed that Lillian said something. That was why not a single word was uttered about the incident, nor did any witnesses turn up when she tried to bring it to a higher authority. As far as the whole school was concerned, it didn’t happen. Camille didn’t punch Lillian, despite the evidence right on her face. She probably just ran into a door or something and wanted to pin the blame on someone else. That was what she rationalized when she came to the principal’s inability to take action. She wasn’t in a good mood, to say the least.

Sitting against a wall in the far corner of her room, she had tissues stuffed up her nostrils as she stared at the dim light in the corner of her room. It was a Friday night, the moon was out and the stars were shining, and everyone at school was off doing something. What was Lillian doing? She wasn’t up to much. Instead of having a good time outside and enjoying herself on such a nice evening, she was inside, wondering what had gone wrong in her pursuit of righteousness. Was she wrong? Was Camille not defying the image of god by changing themselves into something that wasn’t what God wanted them to be? Lillian sighed, before she could feel the blood soaking yet another piece of tissue. 

Pulling the flimsy piece of paper out of her nostril -- she had found that most of its white, pure nature had been consumed by a sickly, red color. She took a deep breath, inhaling through her nose and sniffling to keep the blood from flowing, before discarding the tissue with the others in a nearby garbage can. Lillian was pretty sure that Camille had broken her nose, but she had yet to bring up the issue with her mother. Her mother was nowhere to be found tonight. She was probably out coaching figure skating or hanging out with friends. Meanwhile, there Lillian was, sat up against the wall as she continued to stare at the only source of light in an otherwise dim room. She wanted to do something tonight with someone else. She wanted to be somewhere but here.

But - she didn’t have anyone to do it with. Lillian was reminded on a daily basis that her status as a zealot had rightfully turned away many people. It was just the price that came with being so devoted to being a good child in the eyes of God. It wasn’t like she was doing it to be a dick either. All Lillian really wanted to do was to make sure that God was going to smile and shine down on the school that she also called hers, instead of being surrounded by a bunch of sinners and having to realize that every single person that she ever laid her eyes upon at this school was going to go to Hell whether they liked it or not. Lillian didn’t want anyone to go to hell -- she just wanted everyone to have a better life after life ended. That was really it. Lillian was woefully unaware that her message came out in an incredibly twisted, malevolent manner that was most definitely going to put off the school’s rather liberal student body. But she didn’t know. It wasn’t what she was taught to be. She wasn’t raised in the same environment that these kids were. She were raised to believe this and that was a sin, and that sinners went to hell. Sinners were below human -- and they deserved to be treated as such and labeled as such. That was one of the many beliefs that had been pounded into Lillian’s mind growing up, along with other things such as vaccines causing autism, even though everyone in the Henry family having said vaccinations.

But there was always one question that was never answered for her -- could those people be saved? Was it possible to be turned from the path they were headed down, and change it toward a more positive direction?

She never bothered to ask the question, since she knew that her family probably would’ve reacted in a negative manner and disregard whatever Lillian said. The last thing she wanted to do was to be regarded as a sinner by her family. Being a sinner in the Henry family meant excommunication, being shunned, being cut off from the people she loved most in her life. It was a rather unfathomable notion, but Lillian Henry was in fact capable of love. She didn’t want to disappoint her family members. She was afraid of their disapproval. She was afraid to be ridiculed for such an innocent question. Such was life in the Henry clan. You either followed the word of God without question or you shut your mouth and put that blasphemy where the sun didn’t shine. That was how her grandmother was raised, that was how her mother was raised, that was how she was raised, and that was how her children were going to be raised -- assuming she was going to have children, of course.

Lillian hated rejection and being ridiculed. But what could she do in an environment that seemed to question and contest her every belief? Lillian originally wanted to keep things to herself, but with the mounting anti-Christian sentiment and attitude that seemed to be becoming more prevalent on campus, she just couldn’t help herself. She had to defend herself. She wasn’t just going to take that abuse and have her beliefs be slandered like that. Lillian wanted her perspective to be understood, but nobody took the time to do so. It was frustrating her, that nobody was willing to listen to her. She still failed to see how her messages came out of her mouth, but she was more than sure that if someone actually took the time to sit down and talk to her -- that she would’ve been better understood. Someone might actually see and agree with her perspective, instead of ridiculing her and calling her a “bible-thumper”. Lillian simply wanted to be understood but nobody was willing to take the time. Nobody would understand what she believed anyway, it wasn’t like there was anyone who could truly see and sympathize with her and interpret her beliefs in a way that was more… accessible to everyone around her.

The chances of that happening were just as slim as any other dream.

There were so many things that Lillian wanted in life, but she just couldn’t have it. God didn’t want her to, at least. Nobody was taking the time to actually hear her out and see her reasoning, instead opting to label her as a “vile bitch” up to no good. That was why she was sitting against a white wall, huddled up with her legs against her chest as she let the blood consume tissues by the boxful. This was the result of someone not willing to hear her out and get her message across. She just wanted Camille to pick a better path, one that would make them have a better life in the long run, one that would be more beneficial even past the mortal coil. But yet, they had resorted to physical violence. Violence was never the answer -- she would never resort to such a measure in dealing with such a situation. There were far more benefits of having diplomacy instead of having to resort to the uncivilized gesture of physical action.

What happened to just talking?

Lillian just wanted to talk, but nobody wanted to listen. At least, nobody she wanted to listen had the desire to hear her out. There was a boy at church that just always seemed to bug her. It wasn’t that he was annoying or anything like that, but it was clear that the boy wanted to be more than just fellow Church buddies. Lillian simply didn’t have the same sort of sentiment toward him, or for any boy, for that matter. Not even to that 6’8” piece of meat that used to be the starting quarterback for the BHHS football team. He didn’t do anything to her, and he was apparently one of the most talked about boys in the entire school. She didn’t see it. She didn’t see why he was so hot. There were girls most likely doing sinful things to the image of him, but Lillian was completely complacent in his presence and when thinking about him. 

It was odd. She was sure she liked boys… but they just weren’t doing anything for her. No boy had ever made her jaw drop. No boy had ever been stuck on her mind for reasons other than how stupid they are or whatever sin they committed in front of her. She simply wasn’t interested in seeking out anyone of the male species, even if she was supposed to seek one out later down the line to bear children with and keep the family bloodline going. 

They just weren’t her thing.

Maybe that was why Lillian was stuck inside her room tonight. Locked with her own thoughts, presence, and overall being instead of being in the company of someone else. Instead of being in someone’s warm, soft embrace and being surrounded by their company -- she was subjected to her own personal prison. A [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zmY8mG4_3j4]song[/url] slowly rising in volume from her speakers as she hit the play button on her phone. Leaning her head back against the wall, she took a deep breath, sniffling a bit as she rubbed the bridge of her nose. She closed her eyes to allow herself to be consumed by the darkness, submerging herself and denying whatever light that remained in the room the right to reach her eyes. Lillian was taking deep breaths through her mouth, careful not to breathe in the tissues that dangled from her nostrils as she tried to collect herself and keep herself from being too consumed from the darkness.

It didn’t seem like it was working, however.

A hand came up to her eye, making one motion over it before Lillian sighed once again. Opening her eyes again she looked up at the ceiling. A vast nothingness. Whatever light hit it had only illuminated the flat, white ceiling that sat above her. But that wasn’t what she was looking at. Maybe God was putting her through this for some reason. Maybe this [i]wasn’t[/i] what she was supposed to be doing.  Or -- maybe she wasn’t spreading his message right, as if God wasn’t satisfied with whatever she was doing to make sure his words were heard.

What else could she have done, though? There wasn’t much that could done about words that were falling on clearly deaf ears. Lillian didn’t know what to do. She didn’t know what to do about her message, she didn’t know what to do about Camille, she didn’t know what to do about her peers, but most of all, she didn’t know what to do with herself.

If only [i]they[/i] knew her worth -- if only [i]she[/i] knew her worth.