feelings are fatal

Chiara. Fenwick. 18. Sunlight seeping in through the window in the early morning, cotton candy melting on your tongue, crumbling angel statues, a bible half read with margins full of questions.

[orioncarlson]

𝐖𝐇𝐎: Rion & @chiarangeles​ 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍: End of the school day.  𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄: History Class.

𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐘, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐎𝐔𝐓 — so much so that he almost misses the first couple minutes of class, despite always being notoriously early. His timeliness had nothing to do with the interest in the class material, and more so to do with the fact that he has nothing better to do during the day anyways. Never one of the chattier ones, he usually took the first couple of minutes to settle down, slip into a seat in the back despite the countless open desks by the front.

And perhaps it’s all of the eerie events happening around, or that he hasn’t gotten enough sleep that by the time he slips into class, most of the seats in the back are already filled. In fact, all of the seats are already filled, save for one right by the last person he ever wants to see.

Mr. Carlson? Will you? Their teacher gives him an expectant look, and he slides into the seat, head down, not daring to look over at the girl seated next to him. He’ll only have to get through the next fifty minutes, and then he can go back to sitting in the back, ignoring that part of his life —

Miss Chiara Angeles will be partnered up with Orion Carlson.

No. No — he bolts up, eyes widened towards… her. It’s almost too painful to look at her, and yet, this would be his life for the next couple of weeks. And get to work everyone! He doesn’t move; doesn’t even attempt to move closer to her, in fear of what he’d say or do. Or what she’d say or do. After all, they haven’t talked in at least a few months. 

[chiarangeles]

☀     ☀     ☀

History was never her best subject but it was the last class of the day and that was enough for Chiara to love it. It didn’t matter that she could hardly remember dates or names from people long passed - the only thing standing between her and the rest of the afternoon was a fifty minute window. With a grin, she greets her teacher and slides into one of the last seats at the front of the room, taking out her notebook after settling down. Lost in her thoughts for the afternoon plans, Chiara gets pulled back in at the sound of a familiar name. 

Mr. Carlson? Will you?

He slips into the seat next to her - not even glancing her way. Part of her was hurt that he hadn’t, still drunk on last year’s memories, but the other part of her immediately turned away. ‘It’s only fifty minutes...’ But she couldn’t dare look at him again. Chiara had meticulously planned her timing, her extracurriculars, even the routes she took to and from classes to minimize the chance of running into him. She had purposely chosen the front seats in classes they shared because she knew he wouldn’t go near them. Yet, there he was - only a couple feet away from her, seemingly fine with everything while Chiara tried her best to hide the upcoming wave of emotions. 

—

Miss Chiara Angeles will be partnered up with Orion Carlson.

“No.” The words come out before she can think about anything else. Their teacher raises a questioning eyebrow and for a second she thinks she can feel his gaze on her, which only makes it worse. At the beginning of class she had wanted him to look at her but now she wanted to hide from him. She had done it for months now so much that it had become routine to not notice she was doing it. “Sorry, I just...I wrote my notes down on the wrong notebook.” That feeble excuse wasn’t even enough to fool her, but their teacher let it go. 

And get to work everyone!

Chiara doesn’t move. Her eyes are focused on her notes, cursive letters in black ink that begin to blur with each moment that passes. Being near him again was already too much. Looking away, Chiara rubs her eyes to clear the fog in her mind, nervously hoping for her gaze to settle on anything - anyone - but him. Time had passed, and although she had seen him around he was always out of reach and that’s how she wanted it. It was easier for her to have him at a distance, to pretend nothing had ever happened and she’d never even said a word to him. 

Except he was too close - close enough that she could smell the faint sandalwood and cigarette smoke radiating from - ‘Wait. Stop.’ She is not doing this again. Taking a second to consider her choices, realistically she can just ask their teacher for a different partner, come up with something about ‘irreconcilable differences in the management of this project’. Something ridiculous that will guarantee they get someone new to work with. 

Except, a part of her wanted to work with him. Despite everything that had happened, everything that she had said and done up until this point - she couldn’t deny his presence had some power over the rest of the world around her. Her godmother had once said being a teenage girl was exactly like this, romanticizing everything from the falling leaves to the way someone smiled. If all her plans to avoid him had already been ruined maybe it was for the best. 

“Um, what would you like to do?” Her voice is soft, maybe a little too quiet than she had planned, but she turns to face him. 

[alexasdemies]

Alexa Demie in To “The Moon”, a short film directed by Kasey Elise.

[chiarangeles]

location: the bridge  time: saturday; around sunset starter: open @ba-central 

__________________

There were rarely days in which Chiara felt like this. Two years after starting her journey here and she was still homesick. Could it be called homesickness, though? It wasn’t exactly that. She didn’t miss her family anymore today than the rest of the time, but she was feeling something. It was as if something had been holding her back and now it wasn’t there. As if someone had poured glass upon glass of nostalgia into her and she had been fighting to keep it in, only for it to seep through the cracks of her soul. 

My Chemical Romance blasted on her ears as she ran along the riverside, leaves and sticks crunching underneath her feet. She wasn’t running because she wanted to, but on days when she couldn’t shake these feelings off she did her best to drown them. The worst part of it was that she wasn’t even supposed to be listening to this music - the devil’s music, as her godmother would say - but there’s always something exhilarating about doing things you’re not supposed to. No matter how small.

A couple more songs full of drums and electric sounds and she was closer to the bridge. Coming to a stop, she rested her hands on her knees, letting her breath come back. 

“Almost forgot how much I don’t like doing this...” Soliloquy was her favorite word for the simple reason that if she were a character in a play, she’d be talking to herself all the time too. Behind the bridge, she could see the sun preparing to set. Chiara found a good spot to sit down and turned off her music, hoping to catch the sunset before heading back to the cabins. Was it even a good idea to be out this late considering the recent events? Probably not, but there was no one around to tell her otherwise.

She was fixing her shoe, watching the sky turn from a happy blue to a soft orange, when the gentle shuffling of leaves behind her caught her attention. It could have just been someone else making their way back to the cabins, but she turned around. Just to make sure. 

[gundersonlogan]

location: outside senior cabin time: monday 13th of july 3:46 am  starter: open @ba-central

It took a lot to stir Logan from a slumber, while his other classmates complained about the constant noise that came with the retreat, he found it soothing, reminded him of nights on the road with his parents. He found himself lulled into a deep sleep by the buzz of activity around him, it was a sign that he wasn’t alone, which comforted him. 

The sound that couldn’t be described as anything other than a clatter was not comforting. He sat up in his bed quickly, his head instantly going to the accident, and he had to take a few deep breaths to realize that he wasn’t back in the van but safe in the cabins. At first he thought that he had dreamed up the sound, it wouldn’t be the first time he dreamed about the crash, but then he realized his classmates had also awoken, rubbing sleep out of their eyes and getting up to investigate what had make the sound. 

He made his way towards the senior cabin in his pajamas, the pink hairs on the back of his neck standing straight up. Logan didn’t scare easily but he couldn’t denying the eerie feeling in the air. “This is giving me a weird feeling man.” He said to the person closest to him, rubbing his arm that was covered in goosebumps despite the warm weather. 

[chiarangeles]

☀     ☀     ☀    

Though it was a school night, Chiara sat cross-legged on her bed with her bible on her lap. She’d had trouble sleeping for the past couple of days - as it was normal during high days of stress. Of course, when she’d reached out to her godmother she suggested Chiara open up her bible and read until her eyelids felt heavy. The issue with that was Chiara didn’t feel sleepy until after 3am regardless of what she was doing. Still, she scribbled on the margins of the pages, thoughts jumping from one question to another.

Then there was a sound. Not the sleepy breathing of her roommates nor the forest sounds she’d gotten used to. This was the kind of sound that told her someone had just made a mess. She sat still for a couple moments just to see if anyone reacted. Sure enough, people started opening their doors and she could hear talking on the other side of the walls. She was on her feet before she had a chance to think about it - surely the better idea was to stay in bed and get some sleep but her curiosity had once again gotten the best of her. It seemed almost everyone had woken up from their slumber although some were wide awake. 

She joined her classmates outside as some were trying to figure out where the sound had come from. Some juniors had even woken up and were already making their way over. From the corner of her eyes, she saw a faint flash of pink in the darkness - who else had pink hair? 

“You’re not the only one” She tried to provide some comfort, speaking softly and giving Logan a smile. "But then again, that does seem to be the general feeling around here.” She wasn’t going to deny it - there were too many weird things happening around them but there was also a big chance it had simply been another student trying to scare them. “Who do you think it was?” 

[chiarangeles]

𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐒.

𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄: Chiara G. Angeles 𝐀𝐆𝐄: 18 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐄: Senior 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄: Fenwick 𝐂𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐍 𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌: Six 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐀𝐓 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐀𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐏𝐏𝐋𝐄: This will be her 3rd year. 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐎𝐖𝐍: Dallas, TX  𝐄𝐗𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐔𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐒: Girls Soccer Team, Sacristan Club, Women of Broadripple

𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐒.

𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄: Optimistic / Imaginative / Caring 𝐍𝐄𝐔𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐋: Private / Proud  𝐍𝐄𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄: Transparent / Naive / Jealous

𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐒.

Chiara was born in Dallas, TX and has three younger brothers (ages 14, 10 and 7). 

Due to her cultures, Chiara is very traditionally Catholic. Her family has attended St. Agnes Academy for generations and she’s the only one to have deviated from that tradition by attending Broadripple after her mother’s death.

Shortly after Chiara was accepted at Broadripple, her godmother took a job in Manhattan.

She was raised to be traditionally feminine, obedient and submissive.
If you’re looking for her, you can easily find her at the Chapel when it’s open or somewhere at the edge of the river writing, reading or contemplating her own existence.

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒.

Chiara is a writer. She has journals upon journals of songs and unfinished poems.

Those songs - she’s performed during open mic nights in NY when she can travel for the weekend.

These last few years she’s been at Broadripple, she’s gone home to her godmother’s. She still considers herself a Texan to her core, though.

She wears a 14k gold plated medal of St. Benedict around her neck that used to belong to her maternal grandfather.

Chiara’s favorite food is arancini, but her favorite dessert is lime-flavored cheesecake.

She did ballet from age 6 up to 7th grade when she tried out for soccer and made her school’s team.

She’s always been a good girl in terms of her academics - always turning in her work on time, studying to get her desired grades, putting in the work, never skipping school, etc. Since she sees her academic achievement as her way to escaping home, she tries her best to not let that fall through. 

𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓.

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭?

“I think it’s very generous of the town to help us in our time of need.” Chiara smiles, her eyes wandering to the trees ahead of her. “Plus, we get a nice view of the woods so there’s not much to complain about.” Somewhere at a short distance there’s a faint howling from the wind, as if reminding her that she’s not exactly in paradise. She keeps her gaze and smile on the forest, unyielding. 

𝐃𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐫 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐝𝐨𝐨𝐫𝐬?

“Not at all.” She scrunches up her nose slightly, “I grew up in the suburbs. There were parks and everything but it’s nothing compared to this.” She’s sitting on the steps of the Senior cabin, mindlessly running her finger along the grass. “I kind of wish I had grown up with that, you know? There’s a lot of beauty in these woods, I can only imagine what the rest of them look like.” 

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐜𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐧 𝐛𝐮𝐧𝐤 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞? 𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐞?

She has to think about this, as if it’s been ages since she’s last seen her bunk. “There’s a lot of books and pictures.” Most of them are of her family, but there’s pieces of art on there as well. One picture in specific is ripped in half, hidden between the many things on the cork board hanging by her bed. The bedding is velvety yellow, but the overall aesthetic is in different shades of pink. “Oh, maybe I should add some fairy lights around the window frame.”

𝐃𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐥? 𝐓𝐨 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞?

”Yes?” It’s a question she doesn’t know exactly how to answer. “I mean, God is real. And so is the devil.” She shifts backward a little, an uneasiness crossing her eyes as she speaks the last word. “So if they’re real - who’s to say that ghosts and spirits aren’t?” 

𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐝?

“I’m not answering that.” she says between gentle laughs. “Whether I say yes or no, some people might do something with it.” Though she seemed soft and small in the early morning glow, Chiara actually had a pretty decent stomach for all things horror. Sure, she had her limits but for the most part she could handle a good scare. 

________

Hey, peeps! Chiara is open for all sorts of connections and plots! Hmu for whatever you’re interested in! I’m excited to be here with y’all