Hannah Vanger, Therapist. "Everyoneâs a bit of the rainbow, and weâre all in it together. Sometimes we just need a little rain and wind to see it."
Ask to be transferred, but then returned in the most dramatic of ways which left a huge, gaping hole of legal issues for us to clean up. Not his fault, I guess. It is my job, after all.
[Rowan takes them, smiling] Hey, hey, if youâre Hannah, then Iâm Rowan. [she nods resolutely] But thanks for the doughnuts. Hopefully, it is only confectionery sugar. [she chuckles and plops down onto the ground, situation herself as she goes about opening the package] are you going to join me, or go on and wander some more?
Like theyâd believe me if I did? Either way, I wonât tell. [she takes the water and the pills, and swallows down the pills. She winces noticeable, and her visions blurs with the pain of that simple action] So⊠where have you been?
I had to go out of state to handle some issues a patient of mine caused. There are a lot of repercussions that fall back on us - the staff here - when this go to hell anywhere with our patients. Even if the absolute best of intentions were in it all.
Well, let us hope that the chain of donut moguls that supply them donât have it out for their unwitting customers, then. [she chuckles shortly] Hm. No one much ever puts thought into the way things are spoken, from what Iâve seen. Good on you,⊠Donut Lady? [Rowan laughs]
I think weâre all physically dead, you know, regardless of the mental and emotional aspects of that question. The opposite of death would be birth, right? So wouldnât that make life the halfway mark between the two?
I've always thought the opposite of death to be life, personally. But... I suppose that would make sense. Life is a constant state, where as death and birth are so very brief in comparison. So, with your words in mind, I guess I'm more like four-fifths dead.
Does anyone need anything? I'm half dead but I need to be occupied, disregarding the fact that I've been wandering around for the past eight hours or so. I have donuts I can share...?
Have you ever read Canned? I would suggest it. It's a children's book, yes, but I thought it was positively quirky and wonderful. Plus, I don't know anyone who can deny a mystery book about British canned goods.
Notes: Hannah goes for a night time walk in the rain.
Extra Notes:Â Hannah has been, like, sad for some reason lately, which is in turn excellent fodder for writing.Â
âRain should be refreshing. By principal, that which refreshes the earth and life should be just that...refreshing. It doesnât matter if it has side effects that can be bad, that too much can be deadly. Any good thing outside of moderation is like that! But...Any good thing in moderation is refreshing, because that is the nature of moderation. That is why moderation is so...good. Any good thing in good moderation should be refreshing...because moderation is refreshing, and thatâs why it is good. Why would that even have to be debated? Rain should be refreshing, almost always, when in moderation. This is Georgia... Rain should be refreshing here. It is... It is. Iâm determined to believe...it is.â
These were the words Hannah spoke to herself as she walked along the slick sidewalk in the community, which was currently under the cover of darkness and being showered by a leisurely night time rain. There were clouds obscuring the stars, and the yellow moon shone eerily from its place among them. Looking up through the hair which was plastered against her forehead and brow, Hannah smiled at the beauty of the almost serene night. She preferred the sunny days to rainy nights, yes, but she could appreciate all forms of weather. Besides, even if her pajama nightgown grew soaked in the warm rain, she enjoyed the walking and preferred it to shivering in bed in wake of nightmares. And, she did have on her rainboots.
Hannah truly did like West Harbor at night. It was currently a little after ten, and while there were usually people straggling around at this point, the rain had driven almost everyone inside. So, the empty streets with their bright lamps and neat hedges made a picture perfect neighborhood, like some twisted version of cookie cutter neighborhood in which she grew up. âI had a corner house,â she thought as she rounded a corner then. âIt made me feel like... It made me feel special.â She sniffed and closed her eyes, pausing there on the sidewalk and wiping her wet face with her equally wet hands. âWhatever happened to the neighborhood?â she asked herself aloud. âIt seemed so much...sadder, when I went home. Stupid fucking broken dreams everywhere...â
âI donât want that life,â she whispered. âI donât want to be normal or average or to have all those silly regrets. I donât want to die malcontent like daddy did. I donât want to watch my life pass me by like mom did, only to feel nothing but wistful helplessness later. I donât want that life... And Amber. She doesnât want that life either. Damn it...â Thinking of her sister brought a deeper sadness over her, and a shudder of horror as she thought of the dream which had caused her to be here, out in the rain now. Amber had died, and she had watched ravens picking her body apart. âThere was so much blood... Black, oozing blood like oil...â She shook her head and forced herself to continue walking.
When she came to the end of the street, she turned and looked back down the way she had walked, and how the pavement curved and disappeared into some point in the distance. The normalcy of it seemed like some cruel satire in comparison to the people who were confined within the cute, identical homes with their perfect lawns and little impersonal touches. Hannah closed her eyes, squeezing them tight like a child in a haunted house, and wished it would all just go away. She felt a deep guilt resting on her heart as she considered what little impact she was surely making on the people there. She wanted to help everyone, to solve their problems, and see them on the path of life they deserved. It was a silly, childishly hopeless dream, and perhaps that was why she felt so crushed and disillusioned now.
âYou donât have the right to do this...â she whispered, sinking down onto the ground, there on the sidewalk, with her legs folded under herself. âYou canât just expect the helpless to help themselves, and leave the clueless and blind to save them. Broken toys canât fix themselves, but...â She sighed and dropped head head into her lap, wet blonde hair flopping over and hiding her face entirely. âI just want to feel like Iâve done something special for someone, anyone... I donât know what sort of mission Iâve obligated myself to, but I feel like Iâve failed already.â With a sigh, she leaned back and laid on the sidewalk, arms spread out and her eyes closed as the rain fell and ran down her face. âGod, I pray that you bring me something special before March. I donât care what it is, but I hope Iâm not too blind and ungrateful to see it. Thanks for everything. Amen.â
Destiny isnât fixed, trust me on that. You wonât lose your wings, because you already told me you try to help everyone and that canât be wrong, can it?
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