Who: Sarah Vida & Open When: 10:00 pm, December 22, 2007 What: Memories eating her alive Where: The beach Status: Incomplete Rating: TBA
Sarah moved quietly down the road, heading for a place where she could think and perhaps not be as interrupted as she had been in other places. She'd tried different places, but there her thoughts had been interrupted by others. Here, perhaps she'd be free to consider things without being bothered. She headed down and spread her towel onto the ground and leaned back, resting her arms beneath her head.
Despite the warm air, Sarah wore a pair of jeans and a long sleeved shirt, to hide the scars that resided beneath her clothing. Her long hair spread out around her and her eyes fell shut. Her mind drifted back to Jager and the others. Considering the millions of things she could've said after she'd been turned back to a witch. She hadn't hunted them, and she never would. Jager, Kristopher, Aubrey, Nikolas, Nissa, and Jessica meant more to her than anything in the world.
Carefully, her slender fingers pushed back through her hair and she tried to concentrate on anything but the flood of memories rushing back at her. Though as she tried to concentrate on anything else, she drifted off to sleep and dreamt..but a dream it was not..
Smaller Sarah moved down the steps to head to school, suddenly tripping over her father's body. The elder version of herself stood watching this, watching her seven year old self as her hand became coated in blood and the look on her face. When she looked up and saw her mother and sister, Adianna, watching her child self, and then watching her as she hit the window, shattering it pane by pane.
"Sarah NO!" Dominique shouted and drug her away, horrified not by her husband's death, but her daughter's lack of control over her emotions.
Dominique bound Sarah's powers, making her heal human-slow from numerous lacerations and three broken fingers.
"Learn your lesson, girl." A voice boomed above her head as the fights began, training with those who were bigger, stronger, faster than her.
At the end of the day, she fell into the bed with her hand throbbing with pain. This weakness shook her. And her father's death left a broken shell of the girl that she had once been. She had never perfected her control like her mother and her sister did, she had never been strong enough.
A split second after the nightmare ended, Sarah shot straight up and took a deep, shaking breath. Her eyes fell shut for a moment or two and she shook her head. She heard something, a brief noise and the crunch of sand. Her knife rested in her hand, waiting for whomever it was approaching to come near.