|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Tue Jul 15, 2014 5:09 pm
<< If ye could have anythin' in the whole world... In all the worlds... What would ye wish for? >>
The words are distant, separated by layers of blankets, or flowers and trees and grass, or planes of existence, soft but clear enough that Abbi can hear them perfectly despite how muffled they initially seem.
“Anything at all?” She asks, her own voice unhampered by anything.
<< Anythin' at all, Little Bit. >>
The first thing that springs to her mind is books, a multitude of volumes she has yet to collect, though a second later they become rare volumes hardly touched by humans hands and eventually shift to imaginary ones that would provide all the knowledge in all the worlds, encased in a few brief pages. That soon passes to more physical possessions, things like a closet full of the latest fashions that fit her perfectly and of which are the envy of all who see her. Or a huge house bursting with fun, like a room dedicated solely to gaming with all the latest equipment of a serious gamer girl. Maybe her own private island, very different from the one she inhabits currently, where no one fights and there is always good food and a warm twilight bonfire and certainly no evil mermaids to haunt the waters that crash on yellow-white sands, where everyday ends with a smile and easy sleep.
This quickly transitions to less tangible wants, silly things like her father's forgiveness for events she could not control, or an honest family to call her own, one of real blood and not flimsy feelings like devotion or sheer stubbornness to constantly pester into affection. Someone corporeal who felt nothing but pride and admiration and sweetness toward the teen, a real person who existed as flesh and blood and not a ghost in her head, who reverberated in the walls of her mind like a psychotic patient trying to break the bones to be free.
Finally, finally the ideas shift, a dream all along, to a place where strong, sweet hands touch her own, move to touch her shoulders and neck and face in deepest expression of love. Where someone kind and warm and smelling like something she cannot name but that feels far away and terribly familiar holds her close.
Finally, finally, after all that, finally Abbi replies.
“I'd wish for a path of my own.”
<< But ye have that... >>
“No I don't.”
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Jul 16, 2014 8:18 pm
<>Just five more minutes.<>Those words are a warning, but Abbi clutches harder to the softness under her arms. You can count. Wake me in five.There is a silent rumble, a mental shift that signals the refusal of her headmate to comply. Months and months ago when the ghost was brand new in her head, the teen found it totally foreign, enough that she would wake instantly simply because she had lived seventeen full years all alone in her own head. Viveca has gotten spoilt by the attention paid to her and gives the turn another go, only now Abbi has gotten used to the sensation and ignores her, setting her mind back to the task of falling asleep. <>Something is wrong with those words... <>Sweetness, tenderness and... Abbi searches for the word and is surprised when she finds that the emotion is something she cannot label, a mixture of kindness and patience and understanding that bothers her when it should comfort her. The ghost is never gentle, she is all fury and force, angry snaps and demands, curtness laced with odd love, so the fact that she is not that at the moment means something is wrong. As a precaution the girl starts an assessment of her physical being while her eyes are still closed. <<'ere.>>Viveca comes first for reasons more than just that she demands it. Next comes fingers and toes, which seem fine, though her fingers are stiff with something that crinkles, bandages most likely. This isn't worrisome, Abbi has been training with her weapon enough to cause blisters but she is also cautious enough to wrap them... Only there seem more than before... Wrists and ankles and knees and elbows feel fine, nothing wrong so when the girl finally opens her eyes to find herself face down in bed she cannot understand why Viveca was being so strange. A shift of her shoulder blades drives the conclusion home with searing agony. The cry that leaves her is sharp, sudden, cut off quickly because she had not expected it and wishes not to draw attention to herself. This bed is not her own, Abbi realizes that she has been in the hospital wing this entire time, that she is here because of her fight... The one with the Horseman. “Oh, she's awake.” An attendant nearby moves to her bed side, says something about being still or upping her meds dosage, but the teen isn't listening. She's replaying everything in her head, she's revisiting the scene with a razor awareness of all her mistakes. If she hadn't gone alone, if she had just run when she had the chance, if she hadn't goaded him and tried to play The Big Damn Hero... <>Bitterness pools in Abbi's heart, something she knows she cannot hide from someone who inspects all of her regularly and with ruthless scrutiny, so in a moment the bitterness is not her own. Viveca huffs in her mind, bloats for a moment with anger before the teenager offers a sincere and silent apology. It does something to deflate her headmate, but the ghost still slides off to a corner to mope, leaving Abbi with a head full of herself. There's no one to blame but herself, she had been stupid and made a mistake. All that's come of her endeavor is now the knowledge that her back surely looks a terror, the Horseman's torture an end goal to mark her, to make her look like she got wings she never had ripped off. Maybe its better that way, she probably would have failed at flying if she tried.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Jul 17, 2014 10:22 pm
No matter what logic tells her, regardless of the reasons she can lay out before herself, Abbi still wishes she could be that girl in the cave.
The one who held the torches aloft for others, who shed a bright light to her comrades and who was brave, even despite the frightened feelings she pushed down. It is silly to want that, really it is, because she is not brave. She is not courageous in any form of the word, she is only ever motivated by her need to get away and survive, but the girl in the cave is not. The girl who gripped that bright light tight is unwavering and strong, she runs but it is always forward when things seem lost. She does not give up, she does not surrender.
All of that is folly, Abbi tells herself, this is what she writes to herself in the pages of her journals when she thinks on this, but still... But still she wants it.
To be a young woman all full up of hope and joy, to keep the team going... Oh, it is what she doesn't allow herself to wish for, but what she desires most of all. As awful as it was to lose a friend, even momentarily, she wants to go back and explore that person who shunned failure. She wants to find out how that girl fought, how she swung her scythe with mirth and a good quip and almost saved the day. If that all could be reclaimed, if it could all have been expanded, what else would happen? Would she tell the others not to give up, would she smile at Sherry and Jake and hug them close when they got scared and urge them to keep going? Or would she jump up and down and wave her arms and refuse to let them quit? Would she have been what everyone needed?
Abbi will never know because she gave in to the doubts that rose within her and embraced the familiar wave of guilt and denial. Had it not been for Viveca who exercised her possessive role within the teen's head they might have both been doomed to return home and leave the task unfinished. It was the ghost that saved them with her selfishness and defiance for the taint that sought to undo them both, but it is Abbi who wants to go back, who wants to see the person she could become.
There is a heavy dose of guilt that strives to keep her from thinking of all this, because it means that Stormy was hurt and broken and lost a bit of her own light. In a way, Abbi feels this is something that she has done against the girl, because she fought so valiantly for her friend but in the end left her and was the one to bear the flame from the torches aloft in the darkness and show the path before the remaining group when it should have been the other girl. Sometimes she feels as though the light Stormy lost is what sparked the torches she left behind, as though the girl gave of herself so they could fight on because Abbi couldn't save her.
But when she is under her blankets in bed, when it is just her and Viveca and the quiet rush of ocean water against sand outside her window, she does not pretend.
When it is just the continuous curl of sea and Abbi, she wants to be that person who doesn't give up.
She wants to pick up the slack and refuse failure, she wants to command a team with a joke and an order and save the day.
At the end of it all, Abbi just wants to matter.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Jul 18, 2014 4:08 pm
At the end of it all, when the darkness has been existing for a long time now and the sun is still hours from peeking over the horizon, when she is surely the only one left awake in the hospital wing and has stared out a dark window for what feels like the whole evening, she is left with the idea that she is not worth more than mild disappointment. That she is not enough to warrant an intense break-up, but that something gentle and nearly nonexistent is all she gets. That she does not receive more because there was nothing more than quaint affection passed between them so a subtle release is enough. In the end, she is left with a want for something deeper and the knowledge that she has wanted this ending too, even if it hurts.
Initially numb from the blow, Abbi only sits in her hospital cot and waits, as though something will change if she is patient. But nothing does and eventually she nods off in her bed, cold and melancholy and still aching in every conceivable notion of the word.
When morning comes she finds no warmth in the sunlight that filters through the windows, instead finding that her cheeks are a little wet but that is at least easy to erase. The thing that squats in her chest is not and cannot even be labeled heartbreak, more like a gentle sprain that will heal quickly. But it will not heal in a day and she still has to work through it. More than the actual hurt of her first relationship fizzling just as it had begun is the thought that she is now totally alone. There are friends who care for her, yes, but there is no one just for her. And that hurts worst of all.
The next three days in the infirmary pass slowly, disappointment and an emotionally confused headmate constant companions. Abbi finds busy work in sleeping, in making friends with the person three beds down because even if she speaks a little softer and cannot find the energy to really be over the top, she still feels chatty. She still wants to feel connected.
Once released, she hurries back to her room where she will hide out for a while yet, though after only a day in seclusion she discovers the great need within her for distraction and hopes to seek it. At first she is afraid of leaving her room, for his is too close and she could have a run-in. But when hunger finally drives her to step past the threshold into the hallway, the worry is gone. If she is seen, it is not the worst that could happen because the worst has already happened.
Training is the first thing she thinks of, because she had been working so diligently at it prior to all of this, but once the teen gets to the grounds she finds no enjoyment in the work. She can already twirl her scythe quite well and feels real field training would be better than fighting a stationary dummy. For a long time she cannot think of anything else to try and aimlessly walks the beaches, only to discover that others jog, which leads her to her next means of distraction. Surprised at herself, considering she much preferred to sit on couches with a game controller rather than be outside, Abbi learns that she actually likes stretching her legs out as long as she can and see how long it takes her to get from one end of the beach to the other. But she cannot jog all day, though she can run for far longer than she ever thought possible, and still craves more.
Half because she was visiting the hospital wing frequently due to her still healing sliced up back, and half because this was a long time coming, Abbi becomes a volunteer in the infirmary. She beings to inhabit bedsides and run small tasks for those who are in charge there, happy to help in any way. She is quick to become chattier the more she is there, smiling at the people in the cots when it seems necessary and dropping small trinkets onto their bedside tables when she can. Perhaps the higher ups are annoyed by her nearly constant chirping, but no one complains, at least not to her, and there is something nice in keeping patients company.
Somedays it is boring work, or sad, but she does not flinch from the blood or wounds she sees. They are all viewed in a clinical, detached manner that she is happy to find is an easier place to reach the more it happens. There is something to be said about realizing that her initial interest in the healing arts is actually agreeable with her, but Abbi keeps all these thoughts to herself. Viveca shares in them, of course, but the girl now knows that there is satisfaction in herself. While it is nice to share her experiences with someone else, keeping something just for herself is nice too. She is all alone now, after all, so she might as well learn to enjoy it.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Jul 18, 2014 4:11 pm
She's a little mixed up about what she's doing... But she's getting there!
Fog rolls in around her ankles, wraps tight against her flesh.
Somehow!
Floorboards crunch under her body as she falls against them, moan nearly as loudly as she screams when a weight pushes her down.
She's really cheerful and silly, and a lot of people like that so she's gonna keep trying to be that way!
He says something behind her though she cannot hear it fully with the sound of her ripped up coat and shirt that echos in the house. Steel touches her back, rakes up one side and then the other. She screams and pleads and cries and bleeds, that is the worst because there is just so much red everywhere, but he only goes back over the wounds. Again and again until they are deep enough to scratch the back of her ribs and have put notches in the bones of her shoulder blades.
I wanna be happy.
She wakes gasping and frantic, choking on a scream that she attempts to shut off with shaking hands pressed over her open mouth. No one knocks on her door or checks on her, not when everyone else has nightmares too, not when its part of the job description. Abbi takes deep swallows of air and that calms her a little, but the red is still splattered on the backs of her eyes when she blinks so that she remains wide eyed in the dark for a long time. There is no hope of sleeping after that, little left to do but turn on a light and read over her notes.
Her work in the hospital has kept her busy, studying up on first aid techniques and scenarios occupies her, but neither of them can keep the rattle of lingering fear from her mind. Maybe it is silly to keep dreaming about what happened in the Haunted House, but it affected no one but her and Abbi cannot help but feel like she must carry the burden of what happened for the sake of saving the world. This becomes muddled in her mind, part of her wants to stop it from happening to others, but the rest of her knows she could not handle another situation like that with any deal of grace. So on the night she wakes thinking about what she told the Red Queen in Wonderland, Abbi knows she must make a game plan.
With the sun still an hour or more from rising, the teen sits in her bed and scribbles out goals for herself. They are sometimes silly (get a Korrilakuma soap dispenser), sometimes smart (get more field experience), sometimes sad in the fact that she has to wish they'll come true at all (successfully tie a tourniquet), and sometimes sentimental (get a tattoo, that way she'll have a mark on her body she consents to). But at the end of the page, decorated with drawn sparkles and flowers, Abbi writes “Be really happy” and underlines it twice, just for importance.
By the time she is done, the sun is up and she thinks about going to the beach for a run. There's always someone jogging at this hour and its nice to join the scattered ranks because she is a part of this island too. Maybe she will go to the hospital wing early to check on patients, to see if anyone else had bad dreams and wants to talk about them. She thinks about just sitting in her room for a little longer, but the appeal of putting on an oversized hoodie and wandering around to see what happens is too much to avoid.
With a grin and a curious rustle from her headmate, Abbi crawls out of bed.
Maybe I am behind, but I am mine.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Reply
