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Nightmares [OPEN]
She hasn't been seen in three days. Wait, four? No, it's been five days. The last person to see Kennedy was Iris during their girls' night in Kennedy's apartment. Her shop has been closed ever since, and she hasn't been seen outside of her apartment.
It happened the day after Iris left. She thinks? Her vision blurred, heart racing as she felt the overwhelming drowning sensation of a premonition. A storm, vague like trying to remember a distant dream days after it happens. She tried to paint the scene, but couldn't remember details for the life of her and trying to produce what played in her mind onto a canvas frustrated Kennedy to a point where she tossed her brush and paints onto the floor. Even more frustrating than trying to paint the vision was cleaning her own damn mess. She cursed herself for losing her temper so easily and before she could completely wipe up the vibrant red from the wood floors, paint seeping between the cracks, her mind was attacked by an onslaught of visions.
Storms, murder, death, police, water, love, loss, the sounds of a life torn apart.
This continues for days.
It's confusing. Overwhelming. Locations range from seaside to plains to snow covered cities. Every time a vision fades, Kennedy is left weak, but driven to paint. It's a compulsion she can't break away from. She scratches messages and crumbling buildings into a notebook. Her walls are now covered in canvases--some streaks of violent colours everywhere, others with full scenes, dark and haunting. The visions repeat in a cycle and she can't sleep. She's long lost track of time, barely eating and sleeping. When she does sleep, the visions become worse, playing into her imagination and morph into truly horrifying nightmares that wake her up screaming and shivering. They've infected her mind.
She finally passes out from hunger and sleep deprivation at 3pm Saturday afternoon and wakes up at seven Sunday morning. Perched gingerly at the edge of her bed like she's afraid to move or she'll shatter like glass, Kennedy takes several deep calming breaths and waits for the next wave of visions to strike. After thirty minutes of freedom, she ventures to get out of bed. This leads to washing her face, changing clothes, brushing her hair, and stepping out of her apartment--all movements that are automatic, her body taking control to care for itself while Kennedy's mind runs a-mile-a-minute, paranoid and anxious.
Next thing she knows, she's in front of Quill. There's a coffee in her hands, though she doesn't remember ordering it. She wipes her cheek and she's surprised to feel tears. When did she start crying? And before she can put the breaks on her emotions, she's sobbing on the sidewalk. A girl sobbing uncontrollably on a sidewalk with her coffee.
It happened the day after Iris left. She thinks? Her vision blurred, heart racing as she felt the overwhelming drowning sensation of a premonition. A storm, vague like trying to remember a distant dream days after it happens. She tried to paint the scene, but couldn't remember details for the life of her and trying to produce what played in her mind onto a canvas frustrated Kennedy to a point where she tossed her brush and paints onto the floor. Even more frustrating than trying to paint the vision was cleaning her own damn mess. She cursed herself for losing her temper so easily and before she could completely wipe up the vibrant red from the wood floors, paint seeping between the cracks, her mind was attacked by an onslaught of visions.
Storms, murder, death, police, water, love, loss, the sounds of a life torn apart.
This continues for days.
It's confusing. Overwhelming. Locations range from seaside to plains to snow covered cities. Every time a vision fades, Kennedy is left weak, but driven to paint. It's a compulsion she can't break away from. She scratches messages and crumbling buildings into a notebook. Her walls are now covered in canvases--some streaks of violent colours everywhere, others with full scenes, dark and haunting. The visions repeat in a cycle and she can't sleep. She's long lost track of time, barely eating and sleeping. When she does sleep, the visions become worse, playing into her imagination and morph into truly horrifying nightmares that wake her up screaming and shivering. They've infected her mind.
She finally passes out from hunger and sleep deprivation at 3pm Saturday afternoon and wakes up at seven Sunday morning. Perched gingerly at the edge of her bed like she's afraid to move or she'll shatter like glass, Kennedy takes several deep calming breaths and waits for the next wave of visions to strike. After thirty minutes of freedom, she ventures to get out of bed. This leads to washing her face, changing clothes, brushing her hair, and stepping out of her apartment--all movements that are automatic, her body taking control to care for itself while Kennedy's mind runs a-mile-a-minute, paranoid and anxious.
Next thing she knows, she's in front of Quill. There's a coffee in her hands, though she doesn't remember ordering it. She wipes her cheek and she's surprised to feel tears. When did she start crying? And before she can put the breaks on her emotions, she's sobbing on the sidewalk. A girl sobbing uncontrollably on a sidewalk with her coffee.
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She looks more... concerned, than excited about the prospect. "That must have been really freaking weird. Is your family... with the powers and everything?"
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"How did you find that out? Like, did you talk to them? Their side of the family, I mean."
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"I accidentally realized my powers, dad wouldn't tell me anything about my mom or her family, so I tracked down her sister in Texas. I was mad and wanted answers, and I definitely got them from her."
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"Sorry - I'm... usually a little bit made of questions, it's a thing. If you have somewhere to go- I mean, don't let me keep you, okay?"
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Kennedy shakes her head. "I'm made of rambling thoughts and getting them focused into words is training my brain desperately needs, so you're doing the world a favour, actually."
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"That's great - did you decide to be here, or did your dad?" She's asking because she's curious, and she actually smiles much more widely when Kennedy finally says that she's doing the world a favor. "I think you're exaggerating, but I appreciate what you're saying," she admits, shaking her head. "You're just in good company, because my brain does nearly the same."
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"No, really. The world thanks you," she teases. "At least I won't run you off with my babbling then."
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She goes on to explain, and Raleigh's nodding, because now it sort ofmakes sense. "Well, I kow I'm glad you're here." She'd only just met her, but Raleigh definitely liked her.
"Nah - I guess I'm used to it, since I can't run from myself." She grins, and takes the last sip of her coffee. "Maybe you're here for a reason." She doesn't know, but it's possible.
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"What I have visions of happens. Always. At least in my experience. I just...usually don't know the whens or whys. So the vision about Siren Cove very well could have been someone else moving there, not me."
She smiles when Emily says she's glad she's here and tilts her head. "Maybe? I think my reason is to freak out the citizens by having paintings of them created before I ever met them," she laughs.
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She hesitates, and then - "Is... that why you were upset?" She asks it quietly. "Can I help, somehow? I mean, I know I can't like... change the future or whatever, but... I mean, if you need it." She kind of looks at coffee as the good thing to do, but that's not solving the real problem.
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"Well, if it helps... you're not, anymore. No sidewalk, no crying, no coffee." She chewed on her lip. "If you ever are like that again - I mean, I don't know if you can think that way, but you can always text me or something." She just knows what it's like to be alone when everything's the worst, and she doesn't want to put that on other people.
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"Yeah - an sometimes, it's nice to have a stranger, you know? Like... somebody who doesn't know you, just to sit and have coffee with and not have to rehash other stuff." She shrugs with a smile. "Can't hurt - although I hope you don't need it, and everything's.... better."
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"Just like a safety net, right? Same goes for you. If you need a break or anything." She jots down her number on the sleeve of her coffee cup, sliding it over to Emily. "And my shops' just around the corner, so hey, need a break? Come play with paint with me."
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She bites her lip for a second, until she pockets the number, and has to look up her number in her phone to actually give it to Kennedy, she uses it so rarely. But then? "Do you do those things? The like.... we make paintings sort of thing?" She makes a face, because there's a name for them, maybe, but Raleigh can't think of it. "Everybody paints a tree or something."
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"I could make pastries, if you actually wanted to do it. Refreshments, sort of deal?" Mark it up ten bucks more, and include fresh french pastries to go with the wine.
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