Sep 1, 2016
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I need you to pull me out of this.
Please,I’ve waited years to repent for what I’ve done to you.
Even if its just saying you forgive me.
Because right now,I want out.
'This must be how we die for our sins.' So we all die by floating elf?!
my friend @sespaci reading a horrible story
Once Harvey had calmed down and turned his attention to someone else Theo made a break for it. He set his phone on the ground and slowly went to the door, unlocking it. Tick tock. He peeked his head out listening for a sound. Nothing. Theo's heart was racing as he walked down the hallway. He had to find Ramsey. Tick tock.
Room four. That's it. That's all he had to get to. He walked down the halls stopping at every corner to peek his head around to see if the person was there. Theo was caught off guard when he saw two people, lying in the hall. "Shi--" He quickly covered his mouth. Tick tock. He took a breath in and quickly went to them, looking for a pulse. Theo hated blood and his hands were now drenched. He looked around helpless, room 6. He was almost to Ramsey.
Tick tock. The journey seemed endless and once finding room 4 he rushed to it. "Remmy." He said, jiggling the door handle. His hands were bloody. The sight was horrific, "Fucking Remmy.. someone... please. PLEASE." Theo looked around helpless. If they didn't answer this was it. Tick tock. Tears appeared at the corner of Theo's eyes; why was no one answering, "Please. PLEASE." he begged.
Gone Home
She would say the days blended together, but she couldn't. She marked each and every sunrise that she woke up, still here. Here. That was all she really could call it. She wouldn't let herself call it...home.
On day one, she accepted a glass of tea from the supposed projection.
On day three, she tried to actually engage with her food but was still filled inside with a deafening dread that obliterated her appetite. Which she was still not convinced was even real.
On day eleven, she started to feel a sneaking doubt in her mind about what she so assuredly believed. A doubt which felt a lot like optimism. But her hope slowly diminished throughout the day. Lead balloons didn't fly.
For the next two and a half weeks, she struggled with that optimism which would take off and then crash, over and over but each and every day it lasted longer until after about a month or so she was at least half-convinced she was actually in reality.
It was a confusing realization, one that was so flustered and choked with shame. No matter what she did, she was still the fool, the one who didn't see the truth. She had rejected him over and over and had broken her heart in an attempt to keep her heart from breaking. The emotions she was awash with didn't know what they were, or what they ought to be. Confusion. Relief. Fear. Shame. Happiness. Despair. Hope.
It was that last one, that little fragile, fluttering glass-winged thing so ready to break under the weight of its own cruelty that compelled her to seek out her (hopefully) real boyfriend. Slipping from the bed she had spent most of her days in, and somewhat surprised to have not found an imprint of herself in the mattress, she walked into the hall, her feet not even hesitating at the thought of how much crow she just might need to eat tonight.
The Nurse Who Loved You
The first few days, it felt to Porter like she was holding her breath the whole time. Would the vampire return? And if so, would she be so lucky as to be able to land a strike like that again? She neglected to mention to anyone that, within the confines of their sanctuary, she was helpless.
More so, she couldn't help but worry about Ramsey. Yes, they were doing all they could, and yes, Kenyon said he'd be okay, but worrying seemed...only human.
She flipped an omelet for him onto a plate, full of kale, mushrooms, garlic and turmeric and cayenne, with a side of orange juice and whole wheat toast. She knew Ramsey often wasn't much of a breakfast guy, and she was anticipating she might be getting a strange look from him for serving up a decidedly American plate, but she also knew he needed his strength back, and his bird-like morning habits weren't exactly going to help him in that department. Nor was the usual mountain of pan-fried dough and powdered sugar she called breakfast for herself, which she also made this morning.
She set it all on a tray and pushed her way into his bedroom that had become more like home for the past few days. "You up?" she asked softly.
Growing Power
Porter clutched her clipboard, trying to make herself known in a crowd of students, predictably distracted by hunger and free time. She was missing her yoga and meditation session to be here today.
"Hi," she called out to a group of girls passing by, "I'm here to talk about..." Nope.
It's not that she didn't understand why people didn't want to listen to her. It was lunch time, it was only forty minutes, the lines were only going to get longer...
And yet, didn't they realize their health was at stake?
She wasn't very good at selling things, and she didn't want to be the soapboxer. It could be casual and friendly, people just had to care. Maybe a more personal touch would work.
She scanned the crowd for a familiar face. It went without saying that she didn't know many of the people at school yet. So when she saw a guy she had made eye contact with a couple times near the track, she went ahead and went for it. Better than the nothing that everything else offered.
Walking over, she put on a smile. Not too big. She didn't want to look like a sales person, even if she was selling something, if ideas could be sold, really, and signatures bought.
"Hi."
Breathe In
Yoga. It was something she did every morning. But today, she had a partner. They had spoken, or, perhaps, laughed, over the idea of practicing yoga together, but today it became a reality.
Her mat was already rolled out on her hardwood floor--all she had to do was move the coffee table to clear some room in her tiny flat, but she only moved it back when she had company, which she didn't have for a while, so the mat had stayed in place for a few days now. She lit some fresh incense, to brighten up the place, and turned on some relaxing music. Soft, quiet sounds, though, so there was no question he could hear her direction over the sound.
She also brewed them both some tea. Well, some for him if he wanted any, when he arrived. For her, she was already sipping, relaxing with Charles on the couch and awaiting his arrival. She hoped he hadn't slept in too late. She didn't get the impression he was much a "morning" person, considering he tended to work the graveyard shift.