WHO: Trish Wellington and Mitchell
WHERE: MacArthur Park
WHEN: Around three in the afternoon
WHAT: Trish arrives in LA
STATUS: Incomplete
RATING: TBA



All Trish Wellington had ever wanted was a fairy tale wedding, with the perfect man, whom she would spend the rest of her life with. Instead she got a horror story, hell on earth. And now she was dead - at least dead in her world, because right now she was very alive. Alive and lying on the ground in MacArthur Park, still dressed in her wedding dress, and still covered in dirt and blood (despite the fact her wound was fully healed).

Trish's eyes fluttered open, but they instantly shut again due to the bright sunlight. She hadn't been expecting that, then again she hadn't really been expecting anything. Slowly she opened them again, squinting around - she could make out the fact that there were trees above her, and these trees weren't the same ones as...

...it came back to her then. The very last thing she remembered was...Henry.
Then she was dead wasn't she? And Henry - Henry had...oh, God.

Trish sat up suddenly, gasping for breath. She wanted to cry all of a sudden, or scream, or yell - something - anything that would get the lump that was forming in her chest out. Her mouth was to dry to form words, she could hardly even swallow. Just as suddenly as she sat up she was leaning foreword and vomiting onto the grass what made it worse was that she began to cry (without realizing she was crying) at the exact same time, which made breathing even harder - she was practically choking.