Annie Cresta is one with the waves (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} lifeisastorm) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} valarlogs,@ 2015-05-04 07:39:00 |
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What: Annie finally decides to go back to therapy after the latest set of dreams
When: 4 May 2015
Where: Anatoly's office
Warnings: Talk of torture, rape, self-harm, being held captive, rest TBD
Status: Thread | In Progress
Annie knew that Peeta had offered to come with her to see Anatoly, to wait so she wasn't alone, but first it hadn't been something she was completely comfortable with even when just thinking about it. And then she had woken up from being tortured in her dreams and she had started to spiral. Faster and faster, the room had spun, she'd been unable to breathe. She had dug her nails into her wrists and tried to pull herself out of her mind, out of memories and dreams and to focus on where she was. She wasn't being held in the Capitol, tortured along with Johanna and Peeta (of course that would be how she met the two in the dreams. Of course.) Nor was she in the basement back in New York, chained and broken down from torture and rape. She was in her apartment. It was day. There were no shackles holding her but she could feel them, as if they were burning into her skin, pulling her down into the ground.
She had tried to swim. And it had done nothing. The early morning surfers trying to get some waves in before they had to go to school or work. No place for a fully clad young woman trying to escape her mind. Clutching her head and muttering to herself as the waves failed to calm her. There might have been some questions on if she was okay, but she was acting a little to 'crazy' for anyone to want to come near her. The mad girl from District 4. Laughing brokenly to herself, muttering, scratching her temples and begging for silence and no more cannons. Begging for the pain to stop.
Time was not of the essence. Time was irrelevant. The clock said it was 8 am. When had she woken up? Before the sun. Screaming. Her throat felt raw. Whimpering, the brunette slid down against the wall, banging her head against it as if that would stop the overlapping memories of Panem and New York. But it didn't. Why couldn't she become stone? Why couldn't she harden herself and escape it all? Oh god, it hurt. You can't let the past beat you. That had been what Peeta said, right? Easier said than done. But she was a mess. A complete mess. The charm bracelet from Finnick in the dreams caught Annie's attention and it was enough to (briefly) break through the chaos of memories. With trepidation, Annie pushed herself up and stumbled to the dining room table it was sitting on. Real, not real The memories were real. The actuality was not.
Digging through her purse, Annie found the information Peeta had given her about the psychiatrist who knew about the dreams and knew about Panem. God she needed to see someone. Shaking, she pulled out her phone and dialled, waiting. Praying.. And a voice answered. Disjointed. Or that was her mind, hearing everything through water and screams.
"I need to set up an appointment for Dr. Sergievsky."
"We have an appointment in three days"
"It's an emergency."
"If it's an emergency, you should call--"
"Please."
There was desperation in her voice and maybe it got through to the woman on the phone because she could hear keys clicking as if something were being checked.
"There's an opening at 1 in the afternoon. Will that work?"
"Yes."
"And your name?"
"Annie Cresta."
"If you're new--"
"I know."
Thankful to have gotten the appointment, Annie just paced in her apartment. Sometimes things got broken in her panic. She had to stop herself from diving for a kitchen knife and trying to carve out the memories, carve out the pain. But between panic and talking herself down, time thankfully went along until it was 12:30 and Annie was at the office, filling out paperwork as she was a new patient. This was boring. This was necessary. She knew she looked a fright, she kept tugging on her cardigan, on the bracelet from the Dreams. She looked every bit as insane as she felt. Pale, shaking, messed up hair that she kept twisting and trying to put up in a bun only to shake it down because there was tension on her head from it and did it feel like she was drowning? God she felt like she was drowning.
Paperwork done, Annie curled up in the waiting chair and just fiddled with the cardigan and bracelet until she was (finally) called back, quickly finding the corner of a chair to try and disappear into.