Chaos and Calamity (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rootsofthestories) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
rainbowfic2015-08-18 04:23 pm
rootsofthestories) wrote in rainbowfic2015-08-18 04:23 pm
Spilt Ink, Under The Bed Black
Name: Sebastian
Title: drowning on dry land
Story: Baby, It's A Long Way Down
Colors: Spilt Ink: 13. You forget that even the strongest person to ever live had a weakest day of their life.
Under The Bed black: 3. Night terror
Supplies: graffiti (Lilith Faire Second Stage)
Word Count: 620
Rating: PG
Warnings: blood, nightmares, anxiety
Notes: I kind of blew my chances on having this Not be a thing. Why do I do this to myself?
Fuck
Fuck, fuck fuck.
Hadley wakes up bleeding. Again. Fucking again.
She's bit through er lip and the blood blossoms on her tongue and slides down her chin like she's some sort of messy vampire
She's not huge on blood in general but gets downright scared when it's her own. She's been told what you can do with blood, the power it's got and she's not looking to give that power to anyone who she didn't deem fit.
And she doesn't deem anyone fit at this point. Like hell anyone's gonna get a taste of her.
She wipes at her chin, cursing all the while and looking at the damage done to her pillow. It's there, red and glaring at her like it was her fault.
It was, it is. It always will be but that's not the point. Blood doesn't get the right to blame, at least so says she.
Getting to her feet, Hadley can feel the chaos in her head, the things she's trying to ignore, the reasons he's bleeding at all. There's a whirlwind in her brain, a hurricane threatening to come overwhelm her but she's pushing it back, trying to fight her way into an all clear zone and failing.
She fucking hates sleeping. And reaming. And all of that unconscious bullshit that gets unearthed every time you try and get a little rest.
She mumbles under her breath as she strips the pillow and starts towards the sink to see how much of it she can get off without putting in too much effort.
She's so tired, so annoyed and tense she's not in the mood to do the washing to top it all off.
It had always been her least favorite chore back home and it's her least favorite now. She would bribe Tally with promises of movies and chocolate if she did it but--
Hadley shakes her head. Not going down that road tonight.
\She doesn't even get to start the washing before it hits her. The blood still echoes in her mouth and she knows she should have expected it but fuck, could she get a break this one time? She deserves a pass every now and then.
But that pass isn't coming today and she feels memories wash over her, They come in waves (because everything comes back to the water, doesn't it?) and she feels like she's drowning in them, clawing her way in water so she can't get a purchase on anything.
At some point she falls to her knees, her hands in her hair, tugging hard at it in a way she doesn't even notice. Her breathing is labored, her hands shaking. The sickness that's trying to override her passes just for a moment and she wonders if it's over.
Or if she's just in the eye o the hurricane.
The sounds of rushing water hit her ears and she's falling back again, gasping and shaking and trying to break free of the river's hold on her. But Tally is there, in her mind's eye all pure and light. She's promising peace and God above doe she she want to believe her.
Tally always knew where the peace was. She drew it to her, made things calm and easy wherever she went. She didn't have chaos around her or bad days or any of it. She had quiet, she had goodness.
Had, being the word there.
Now she's only got the water.
Hadley just lays on the ground of her kitchen, breathing hard, nails digging into the linoleum. Maybe this'll pass one day. Maybe she'll break away, or maybe she's going to die with water in her mouth and a ghost already waiting for her.
Title: drowning on dry land
Story: Baby, It's A Long Way Down
Colors: Spilt Ink: 13. You forget that even the strongest person to ever live had a weakest day of their life.
Under The Bed black: 3. Night terror
Supplies: graffiti (Lilith Faire Second Stage)
Word Count: 620
Rating: PG
Warnings: blood, nightmares, anxiety
Notes: I kind of blew my chances on having this Not be a thing. Why do I do this to myself?
Fuck
Fuck, fuck fuck.
Hadley wakes up bleeding. Again. Fucking again.
She's bit through er lip and the blood blossoms on her tongue and slides down her chin like she's some sort of messy vampire
She's not huge on blood in general but gets downright scared when it's her own. She's been told what you can do with blood, the power it's got and she's not looking to give that power to anyone who she didn't deem fit.
And she doesn't deem anyone fit at this point. Like hell anyone's gonna get a taste of her.
She wipes at her chin, cursing all the while and looking at the damage done to her pillow. It's there, red and glaring at her like it was her fault.
It was, it is. It always will be but that's not the point. Blood doesn't get the right to blame, at least so says she.
Getting to her feet, Hadley can feel the chaos in her head, the things she's trying to ignore, the reasons he's bleeding at all. There's a whirlwind in her brain, a hurricane threatening to come overwhelm her but she's pushing it back, trying to fight her way into an all clear zone and failing.
She fucking hates sleeping. And reaming. And all of that unconscious bullshit that gets unearthed every time you try and get a little rest.
She mumbles under her breath as she strips the pillow and starts towards the sink to see how much of it she can get off without putting in too much effort.
She's so tired, so annoyed and tense she's not in the mood to do the washing to top it all off.
It had always been her least favorite chore back home and it's her least favorite now. She would bribe Tally with promises of movies and chocolate if she did it but--
Hadley shakes her head. Not going down that road tonight.
\She doesn't even get to start the washing before it hits her. The blood still echoes in her mouth and she knows she should have expected it but fuck, could she get a break this one time? She deserves a pass every now and then.
But that pass isn't coming today and she feels memories wash over her, They come in waves (because everything comes back to the water, doesn't it?) and she feels like she's drowning in them, clawing her way in water so she can't get a purchase on anything.
At some point she falls to her knees, her hands in her hair, tugging hard at it in a way she doesn't even notice. Her breathing is labored, her hands shaking. The sickness that's trying to override her passes just for a moment and she wonders if it's over.
Or if she's just in the eye o the hurricane.
The sounds of rushing water hit her ears and she's falling back again, gasping and shaking and trying to break free of the river's hold on her. But Tally is there, in her mind's eye all pure and light. She's promising peace and God above doe she she want to believe her.
Tally always knew where the peace was. She drew it to her, made things calm and easy wherever she went. She didn't have chaos around her or bad days or any of it. She had quiet, she had goodness.
Had, being the word there.
Now she's only got the water.
Hadley just lays on the ground of her kitchen, breathing hard, nails digging into the linoleum. Maybe this'll pass one day. Maybe she'll break away, or maybe she's going to die with water in her mouth and a ghost already waiting for her.