Who: Angelina and Helena What: Ange is there for Helena. When: Right after Fred leaves. Rating/Status: Low / Complete
Helena remained where she was for a few minutes, or possibly hours, after Fred finally left her. She couldn't move. Everything hurt, but it wasn't a physical hurt. That wasn't to say that emotional hurts didn't hurt just as much. They most certainly did, if not more. Her chest continued to tighten, her stomach fluttered uncomfortably and she still felt like she was going to be sick. Or cry. One or the other.
When she was finally able to convince her body to move, Helena removed herself from the hammock, a harder feat then she had previously realized when there was no one else there to watch her progress and stop her if she tipped over. She didn't thankfully. But she did trip a few times on the way to the bungalow, though she didn't fall over. That would have just made things all that much worse.
Back inside, Helena remained quiet as she went in search of something. Her journal. It was there to write what happened on a daily basis and this was something big. But what did she write? It came to her. I hate this place. I want to go home. Pause. But I do not, all at the same time. Why does it all pile up at the same time? She left it at that, it was the best way to write down everything and nothing all at the same time.
She sat for another minute, before finally getting up. Angelina. She needed to talk to someone else and Angelina was the perfect person. She would know. She had been through this before. With Fred! Although, it had probably been easier for her. Helena couldn't remember anything harder, at least, not at the moment anyway. She knew that there was though, beyond this one minute there had to be something.
"Angelina?" She cried out from her spot in the living area, sitting back down on the sofa, afraid that she would fall apart, rip into two, if she attempted to go in search of the other woman.