Annie Cresta (madwinner) wrote in welcomethreads, @ 2014-06-05 16:06:00 |
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Entry tags: | abraham lincoln, annie cresta |
Who: Annie and OPEN
What: Annie's having a bit of trouble coping.
When: Thursday evening
Where: Outside Tower One
Rating/Warnings: Medium. PTSD, mental instability, mentions of previous trauma.
Status: Incomplete/Open
Annie sat on the steps just outside the block of apartments, her thin body curled into itself on the cold concrete. She'd been on her way back to her and Finnick’s rooms a little while before sunset, when for no obvious reason apart from a rogue thought or memory, something had slipped in her mind, leaving her curled on the steps for the next few hours, knees pulled tight to her chest as the evening set in around her. She didn't notice, not the dark or the chill that came with it. She just sat, and stared, reality having slipped away from her without her knowing how to claw it back.
She knew they weren't telling her what happened in the future in order to protect her, but the very knowledge that the truth was that dangerous for Annie's fragile mind did damage enough. She saw things, things that may or may not have happpened, cut in with memories of canonfire and blades and blood shining in the dark. Screams that echoed and bounced in the canyon of a dry river. Finnick's hair, golden against the blue of the sea.
Annie shivered and gave a low whimper, ducking her head so her forehead rested on her knees, her hands clamped fiercely and painfully hard over her ears as if that could block any of it out.