Nightmares [OPEN]

[kennedyk]

 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. 

Comments

[isaiahward]

There's a girl standing on the sidewalk in front of him, coffee in hand and tears streaming down her cheeks. He had felt her devastation before he'd turned the corner, and he's wondering now why he kept on walking in her direction when he knew what would be waiting for him. One the one hand he feels like he should turn away and pretend like he didn't see anything, but on the other, she looks like she's in distress, and who would he be to keep walking without even checking if she's okay?

Quietly, he approaches and ducks his head down to peer at her.

"Hi, are you okay?"

[kennedyk]

Great, just great. She hates crying in front of anyone, especially complete strangers. So she nods her head, but that nod quickly becomes a shake and she suppresses another sob. She's not okay and she can't even fucking lie about that fact.

"I'm very, very tired," she explains with an attempt at a smile. "I'm being silly, stupid and silly."

[isaiahward]

"Crying isn't always silly," he says, and concentrates on projecting calm and it'll be okay. It's probably crossing a boundary, doing it without asking, but she looks like she needs it and he doesn't really feel like spreading around what he can do anyway.

"Anything I can do?" He asks instead, all the while careful to keep relaying a subtle wave of gentle projection.

[kennedyk]

She feels a weird sensation of relaxation and her sobbing stops. Kennedy eyes the man a bit because weird.

"Mind knocking me out for a few days? That'd be A+ of you." Uninterrupted sleep would be heaven right now and she looks at him like "No, really, knock me out, please."

[isaiahward]

He frowns, because honestly, he's never tried it, but that's probably something he could work out how to do. Not that he's going to, because he's pretty sure the look she's giving him means he's managed to weird her out enough, without her 100% knowing what just happened.

"I hear alcohol is really good at that, though that might make the crying come back," he smiles, trying to make a joke, even if it's a bad one so that she for real doesn't start crying again. For someone that can control emotions at the drop of a hat, he's really bad at this. "So I'm Isaiah, and uh, I guess it's nice to meet you, but I'm probably not going to hit you over the head, that'd probably get me done in for assault, and I'm kind of new here, so that would be bad."

[kennedyk]

"Alcohol sounds great. But also like opening a whole other can of worms." She smiles despite the fact that she's afraid alcohol would mean worse visions and she's also trying to be friendly because he's now introducing himself and seems kind of awkward about it. "Dang, Isaiah, we could've had it all. I'm Kennedy. And I'm kind of new also."

[isaiahward]

"Do you want to sit somewhere? You look like you might need to take a rest." She still looks like she's only half-here, and he figures sitting down will mean she won't suddenly fall over on the sidewalk, which would be a pretty shitty end to her day, he's guessing. There's a park bench seat a couple of metres away, and he indicates to it, eyebrow raised.

[kennedyk]

"Probably, yeah." She follows his gaze to a nearby bench and walls over to it, carefully sitting down like she doesn't quite trust that it's really there. She probably looks insane but well...She doesn't care.