@joleighton at the weekend of horrors, after 8PM
The breaths in her chest were short, strained, painful, palms too slick and eyes round as she began to take notice of the banding of the crowd, and looking ahead to a ring encircling the drive-in, she supposed the plan of waiting at the movies for Samantha was... off. There was nowhere that she could see to dodge the bullet and wait out her anxiety attack, stiff and bow-legged as she bumped into a few of the festival-goers, wincing and half-apologizing to a couple, garnering a couple equally panicked gazes or swears or glares, and she couldn't think straight enough to decipher why the woman she nearly topped to the ground looked familiar. The blonde hair, the contacts... no, it didn't ring any bells. "W..." The syllable, the words she wanted to use, died on the tip of her tongue, as she looked around again, terror gripping her and her heart dogpaddling in her throat. Penned in like cattle, we're like cattle to market. "Who... are they?" Had the older woman noticed? Was she the only one that saw it? Was she going fucking insane?