| Open Post | Amnesia |
Many things had gone wrong that night. Vegas' air was arid and humid for the last time she could remember experiencing. The first thing that ruined the night was that it was odd when she'd called the house and no one had picked up - thirty minutes before club's opening time. She had gotten a little worried, of course, but thought nothing of it- it wasn't exactly a situation that warranted panic, something she'd gotten quite used to feeling, now a days. Of course, when her first break rolled around and no one answered the phone, yet again, she hadn't even questioned the other co- manager and just up and left the club without a second thought. Ariell hadn't thought anything of it, knowing her situation at home and sympathizing.
The second incident occurred when she'd arrived back to the familiar gated community. Dani hurried home, dismayed to find that the lights were out. An abysmal feeling plummeted in her stomach, unsettling her nerves and security. Nothing was safe - nothing was okay. She hurried inside, hoping, praying that it had not happened again, but somehow she knew before she even got halfway up the first flight of stairs that he wouldn't be there. She tears the house apart, up heaving every blanket, opening every door, checking every single inch of that colossal house. Coming up with nothing, she retreats out into the night, refusing to believe that it had happened to her yet another time.
The third crushing, terrible event that had gone dismally wrong, was on her way out to the desert - a place he had often retreated to in times of distress in the past. Hands stuffed into her pockets, head down, the girl hurries across town, weaving through the streets as the humid air choked the life out of her lungs, and the passing minutes quashing her resolve. With her mind as distracted as it was she never sees it coming - pulling out of the late night pub without so much as a car horn as warning. The swerving vehicle slams into her body, knocking the breath right out of her. Screeching tires alert her to a car's presence, but her thoughts are so jumbled and fuzzy she doesn't register what had happened in the first place. Cracking pain resonates in her disoriented skull, knocking her out cold on the worn, oily pavement. Deep red blood pools around her crumpled form in the street. The intoxicated driver swivels to a halt half way onto the sidewalk, throwing themselves from their car to assess the damage they'd done. They approach the abused body cautiously. Shaking, the driver dials the emergency line, and it's not long before the blonde is being lifted up onto a stretcher, and toted into an ambulance in a heap of blood stained clothes and matted hair slick with freshly pouring blood.
The medics speed through the city to get back to the hospital on time, sirens wailing to part themselves a red sea of cars. Upon reaching the hospital she is wheeled back into the ER, where the doctors set right to work. When the patient's condition is once again stable, they attempt to notify her next of kin, finding only one name listed that was still considered alive and well.