|Kat Warbler (sharkswithguns) wrote in wariscoming,|
@ 2014-01-29 21:57:00
|Entry tags:||kat warbler|
Who: Kat! (Narrative)
What: Apparently Kat is still a lunatic. And freaking out a little. Oops.
Where: A shit hotel in New Mexico. The internet lied, this is definitely not a five-star location, and she's not amused.
When: Earlier tonight!
Why: IDEK the muse realized she was freaking the hell out a little more than I thought she was and instead of just chillaxing in my brain for a bit she was like LET ME SPIT WORDS AT YOU. WRITE THEM, BITCH. So.
Warnings: Language, zombie-related violent imagery, and possibly might make people with trauma/ptsd/etc things sad/crankyfaced, because Kat isn't exactly PC about her own issues.
Apparently it didn't really matter how many steps forward Kat took - she'd always end up back at least one more than that number. Or at least one away from okay, which was far enough away to be pretty fucking crappy. Usually when she least expected it, too. Of course. Because that was convenient.
All it took was a mention of coming back from the dead, and Kat was back to turning on every light and chugging tea and coffee and fucking energy drinks, trying not to sleep because she couldn't deal with everything lurking in her own mind right now, everything that shook loose with just how do you deal with your deathaversary? and bled through the carefully-constructed walls around what Claire called trauma, and Kat called her stupid fucking brain being fucking stupid and not getting over it.
It wasn't the dying part that freaked her out so much. Hell, she'd downright demanded that part, when it started to be obvious that she was turning, she'd insisted it was over and it needed to be over, and.... yeah, no, dying wasn't the issue. She was okay with that, even if she didn't really have it on her to-do list to do it again. So thinking about being dead didn't really mean a whole lot, except as a reminder about everything else.
It was everything between being bitten and being dead that was the problem. The panic of realizing she was quickly becoming something sub-human, the actual creeping pain-numbness that was her body dying without bothering to also stop being alive...
...the sick feeling of wanting to eat someone, the craving for human flesh and blood and imagining just biting into someone, just sinking her teeth in and actually-
Kat shuddered, tucked her legs in closer to herself, and then immediately rolled her eyes at her own ridiculousness. Stupid. This was stupid. She was fine - she wasn't bitten again. She wasn't turning into a zombie, she wasn't turning into anything. The creeping dead feeling in her skin and her veins wasn't real and she was more than well aware of that. The fact that it refused to go away even though she knew it wasn't even a thing meant that she was obviously a lunatic. She knew all this already. She knew she had to just.... stop. being. crazy. But it was kinda easier said than done.
Claire would have probably scolded her, or at least kind of made that one face with the exasperation, the one that clearly asked why she didn't listen to a word her friend / therapist said to her because she never did like when Kat called herself crazy, but Claire wasn't here, because here was a stupid hotel in stupid New Mexico, where she'd been mapping out the city to maybe surprise Simon with a new and exciting getaway (or, at least, a new and mundate-exciting getaway, because, let's be real, New Mexico wasn't exactly the top of her to-do list, but she hadn't been there and she was going to go everywhere... The hotel was crap, though. Five star rating online was a total lie. Probably all employees paid to rate it that high. Bitches).
Her plans were a little derailed when she decided to look at the boards, and read that one post with the dead lady talking about being dead, and then she'd been stupid enough to reply to it, and now she was glaring at cracks in tiles in the bathroom floor of some stupid hotel room and trying to talk her own stupid brain down before things escalated to something slightly worse than hiding in bathrooms in hotels in the middle of weird places no one would expect to find her. This was alltogether a too close to a freaking breakdown for her liking, and it sucked, because she was, as a general rule, actually pretty content with her life most of the time, right now. Like, okay, yeah, she still freaked out at the idea of eating anything that was ever any kind of flesh. She still woke up freaked the fuck out most nights. But she had friends and she had a Simon and she was getting okay so why the hell was she doing this right now instead of focusing on that stuff?
At what point did it actually fucking go away?