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

[owenphillips]

“I’d definitely say she has knowledge of magic, so I don’t see why she wouldn’t be able to help you.” He just hoped she helped Kennedy how she wanted and didn’t try anything to manipulate her in anyway. “I wouldn’t let that happen, if I hold my stick like this,” he demonstrated, tucking the stick under his arm so it was facing forward, “And accelerate my chair, I can joust to your rescue if need be.”

“My type of charming is pretty upfront – can’t be doing that all the time. Anyway, I thought you liked me anyway without having to be charming,” he pouted a little.

[kennedyk]

Manipulation would be bad for Kennedy. She's desperate enough for a family to lose her wits and fall for it, like she first did with her aunt. And if that repeated, it'd be very hard to keep up the generally happy attitude she used as a barrier to hide her true feelings. She needed Nerium, needed her help and her information. She just keeps her fingers crossed it won't all blow up in her face again. She laughs at the jousting image. "If you came at a murderer like that, I'm pretty sure he'd have to surrender or run away."

"It is pretty exhausting, isn't it?" she huffs, acting like the world is so tough. "I like you because you're shorter than me, don't forget that."

[owenphillips]

"Excellent - maybe the police should temporarily hire me. Doubt anyone could out run this thing," he joked. "Apart from Usain Bolt, but then people may recognise him a little easier than most people." It certainly created a funny image, his wheelchair zooming after criminals and then hitting them with his stick. He had never had any intentions to join the police however.

Owen nodded, "So basic translation, I need to bring something good to the table when I'm taller than you."

[kennedyk]

"You'd make them all jealous, Owen. They wouldn't catch nearly as many criminals as you. And I'll be your own personal sketch artist for any of the ones that actually do get away."

She nods. "You've got time to think about it, I trust you'll figure something out."

[owenphillips]

"Well, if we got matching hats, a flashing light and a noisy siren, you could hop on the back of the wheelchair. It'd be like our own little police unit. The rest of the cops would have no idea what to do with that." He could imagine how much James Thornton would like that, the guy already was not a fan of him. Which made no sense really, considering he'd never slept with anyone the guy knew particularly well or was related to.

"Still, a lot of pressure. I'll have to make a good plan when I get home."

[kennedyk]

"Oh man, I want everything about what you just said. This town won't know what hit it." She's smiling, completely distracted from the miserable week she's had. Her head feels clear and she's happy.

"I have high expectations for you, Owen. Don't let me down."

[owenphillips]

“We can test it out if you want, do you need a lift home?” He asked, whilst he didn’t know where Kennedy lived, if she told him the road he’d probably know where it was. Owen’s taxi service indeed. He grinned; glad she looked a little less upset than she had earlier.

“That is a statement full of pressure. But I accept the challenge.”

[kennedyk]

"Um YES!" she beams, telling him the name of her apartment complex. "I'm on the top floor which sadly means you can't carry me up the stairs yet. But I'm sure that'll motivate you to get better, won't it?" She taps at his legs teasingly. Kenned gets up and perches on the back of his chair. "Hi-ho, let's go!"

[owenphillips]

Owen nodded, recognising the name of the place. “It’ll be a little while until I am successfully navigating stairs,” he agreed. Although he was looking forward to being able to do things without having to plan an extra hour in or without checking if they had wheelchair accessibility. “All passengers need to keep their hands tight on the vehicle.” Once she seemed to have settled, he pressed the joystick forward and the chair started to move.

[kennedyk]

"Yes, sir!" She obeys, tucking her arms close to her side. Kennedy can't help but laugh that after all that preparation, as soon as Owen pushes the joystick forward, they reach a speed she could walk faster than. "Okay, we're going to have to juice this thing up. It's not fitting for you at all."

[owenphillips]

“I’m glad my rock and roll spirit is that palatable – I just wanted you to get a feel for it before I sped off. I’d hate to see you injured,” he explained, pressing a button before pushing his joystick further forward. This time instead of a gentler strolling pace, the chair zoomed off at more of a very fast run. Of course the chair was limited in speed somewhat, but with the wind in your hair it always felt quicker. “How is that for you?”

[kennedyk]

Kennedy grabs hold of the handles as Owen speeds off, surprised the chair can actually get up and go. "Damn, you're just a regular Nascar racer in this thing! Keep it. Even after you're back on your feet."

[owenphillips]

“I had a night when I couldn’t sleep so I raced up and down the boardwalk for about an hour.” At the time he hadn’t planned to do that, he just thought looking at the sea may make him feel sleepier. Instead he ended up racing about like a teen on a bike. It’d been pretty fun. “Not sure if the hospital would be happy about me keeping it,” he admitted. It being essentially a rental and all. He slowed down a little as they went around a corner, before speeding up again, dodging around a pedestrian.

[kennedyk]

"Rebel!" she laughs. True, she doesn't really know a lot about Owen, but first impressions, she thought he was just your typical nice Siren Cove resident. But low and behold, his layers are shedding and he's a regular ~bad boy~. "Oh man, I don't know what to think of you anymore. You're dangerous."

[owenphillips]

“Dangerous!” He exclaimed a little dramatically, had he not been driving, he’d probably have pretended to clutch his chest or something. “I have you know I am one of the safest people to be around. At least the coach of the football team always said that when the other team had the ball – but still!” It was pretty amusing for someone to think that he was this sort of bad boy, especially when other than the escort work, his entire life was pretty vanilla.

[kennedyk]

"I dunno," she scrunches her nose. "Don't most serial killers say that to their victims? 'I'm super nice, oh boy, come hang out with me in my super cool race-car wheel chair. I won't murder you or get you in trouble at all!'"

"You probably snatch lollipops away from babies just for fun."

[owenphillips]

“True. But I imagine most serial killers aren’t seen in public, in broad daylight with the person they plan to kill. It would give the game away.” Owen explained, “Although I am worried as to why you think I’d do such a horrible thing to children and babies. I worked on the boardwalk for years and I used to sneak sweets to kids.” Now he wouldn’t do it as people would probably be suspicious of a general act of kindness, but he’d just always loved kids.

[kennedyk]

"But you aren't most, are you, Owen? You want to make a name for yourself, be a killer in history, don't you? Do everything that doesn't make sense for a serial killer to throw the police off your trail. Remember," she leans over so he can see her and taps at her forehead. "Visions."

"Okay, I take back the candy from a baby thing. You're a serial killer with a heart of gold."

[owenphillips]

“Damn,” he sighed loudly, “You caught me. Those visions of yours gave the game away. I suppose you’ll be wanting to get off here – although I have to say, with stairs being my natural enemy, currently. I could still take you the rest of the way to your apartment and you’d be safe once you reached them.”

He mock preened for a moment, smiling widely, “Why thank you. Children are always safe around me – people who apparently know my secret however…”

[kennedyk]

She makes a face, considering his suggestion. "You know what? I'm lazy. I'll hitch a ride til the stairs and then I'll be safe." She gasps. "Unless this chair is a ruse! Oh man, you're evil!"