From what she knew of, things had changed drastically throughout the time Zumi had been dead and then risen from the ground. She even knew where she was born at, though she avoided going there as much as possible. She didn't even like to think about it.
While Zumi was traveling, she decided to stop by and admire the old ruins of the life she used to have, before she was dragged into this. Nothing was ever going to be the same, but then again she wasn't the same person. Not just because she had killed herself, but because of WHY she had done that. Zumi was grown up now, a different person, she was more mature and slightly less sensitive. The time of hurt and being self-condescending was over. No more.
The only thing that still hurt, fresh in her mind, was Vincent. He had her heart, even for a short amount of time. No matter what, he was still going to be there, even if she forgot or pushed it away. "Love" was still emblazoned on her chest, however now that she had forced her hair to grow longer it was slightly covered by her choppy, layered hair. Her right hand raised to twirl the pink locks of hair around her finger as she stood there, admiring an old apartment building in New York. Her leg was cocked out so in a way she looked like an extremely pale, but hot, prostitute. Her bottom lip was tucked in slightly as she bit it, her acid green eyes looking at the rubble.
She was extremely bored. She felt like dancing.
So, out of no where, she started to dance. She danced down the street and up and down allies, never once stopping as she curled this way and that, dancing to the tune in her head. "When we drink we do it right, get slizzered." she sang out loud in her soprano voice as she glared at a long dead body that was in her way in the middle of the street.
