Bethany Richards (hard_edge) wrote in low_tide, @ 2009-11-15 17:49:00 |
|
|||
Current mood: | pissed off |
Entry tags: | bethany richards |
Living Nightmare
The first thing to wake Bethany Richards was the cut of sunlight over a previously scarred piece of skin and the second was the dawning realisation that all wasn't right with the world.
Firstly, she was lying in cotton sheets beneath a cracked ceiling. Secondly, there was a mass of pink as far as the eye could see. And thirdly not only was her hair in pigtails but it had bows in it, pink bows at that.
Initially the confusion over where she was filled every inch of her mind with questions until memories overwhelmed them. This place, this body, it was her and yet not. She had her own memories, the tangible ones of being pregnant and together with Darian, but she also had new ones. They were disorientating and on occasion blinding, almost as if she was in some sort of waking dream and she couldn't escape.
To gain some control and equilibrium Bethany ripped away the bows and allowed the long strands some much needed freedom, moving from bed a mere second later. Her strides took her into a miniscule bathroom and a hand groped blindly for the nearby cord to bathe the area in a yellow light, allowing her a moment to regard herself.
The face in the mirror was her own sans scar and yet... her stomach, it was no longer rounded or showing any evidence of having carried a child. Bethany wasn't quite prepared for the pang of regret she felt at that moment in time, tracing her fingertips over the flat expanse of her stomach feeling nothing but muscle where previously there had been softness.
After this moment she took the time to map the apartment, scowling at both size and state of disrepair. If her new memories served correctly this version of herself had a rather poor looking bank account, this was only furthered proved by a cursory glance over the latest bank statement.
This wasn't good. Not good at all.
In her mind, Bethany was aware that her other life continued unheeded and without falter, but she was here now and therefore had to make this life work even if it wasn't her own.
First thing first, what sorts of clothes did this girl have to offer? If the decoration of the apartment was anything to go by then Bethany was in for a shock, a massive one, right to the very core of her. She was seriously contemplating using a pair of kitchen tongs to pry her way through what passed for this Bethany's wardrobe. God only knew what lived in there.
Bethany squared her shoulders and marched over to it, ripping it open. It took less than a minute for her stomach to sink and her eyes to widen. There was denim everywhere and she could not for the life of her see any sort of heeled boot. Bethany scrubbed at her hair and squeezed her eyes shut in the hopes that this was all some bad dream. Eyes reopened and she was still staring at a mass of denim and flat heeled shoes, it felt like somebody had literally pulled the rug out from under her then stood above her cackling like some sort of deranged lunatic.
This wouldn't do, not at all.
"Right," Bethany bit out quietly. "I think it's time for a little bonfire."