Who: Kyrie Van Zandt (Narrative) What: A reaction When: August 6, 2019 (backdated) Where: Her apartment Rating: Mid - mentions of violence/death Status: Complete
Kyrie pressed her back hard against the door. Any more pressure and she would likely have split the door into two or at least left a substantial crack. Legs were drawn up, arms had wound around the limbs and her face was buried into the seam of her arms. Eyes squeezed shut. Her heart beating, hammering, was the only sound in the empty apartment.
She had always hated this island. There were few things in her life that Kyrie knew she despised more than anything and being there on the island with no way out was on that list. It was worse that Fitz had to be here. He couldn’t be himself - couldn’t live the life he deserved because of the tension and the backlash toward their kind. If it wasn’t the guards hassling the residents then it was something like what happened to that guard - the claim of revolution by whoever had done that pretending to act like a resident. None of the people she knew would act like that - Kyrie heard a lot of things, many people talking and sharing opinions, but mostly their words were said without the backing to act.
Had she known what lay ahead in the future she would have stayed with her parents, even after her career was over. There would’ve been more hope out there for her. But she had come here and now she was lost to the world. If such things could happen to those meant to protect the residents then could that happen to one of them? Would one of them be killed and put on display for everyone to see? Would someone do that to Fitz if they discovered him? All the more reason to protect her brother and her friend.
Strain settled into her features. Finally her head would lift. Arms would unwind from her legs and fingers would swipe across her eyes in an effort to brush away the tears slipping down from her eyes. She didn’t want Fitz to worry, she didn’t want to explain what was going on inside of her. Another moment and she was rising carefully to her feet. Moving forward she let her footfalls echo as she walked toward her bedroom. Sliding into her bed Kyrie burrowed beneath the blankets and took refuge there in the nest of warmth.
At some point she knew she would have to face the day but right now all she craved was rest, to let everything go and drift away to a world that she could control. She wanted to be safe, to be loved, and not be afraid to go outside. Right now she was all of those things and none of those things. As she drew the blanket over her head Kyrie stretched out, closed her eyes, and did the best to go back to sleep.