writing_shadows

OOC: This is fallout from the London game, hope people like it :) Comments are always welcome (unless they are pointlessly mean).

It wasn’t until she dropped her key several times trying to get it into the lock that she slowly realised that she was shaking. It took another few minutes of taking deep breaths and holding one hand over the other whilst she fitted the key into the lock to actually manage to get the door open and get inside.

She barely made it over the threshold and shut the door behind her before the full force of everything hit her, now she was away from all the werewolves and didn’t feel the need to hide how she felt anymore.

And then the tears came flooding and she fell back hard against the door. DJ’s words kept echoing around her head on a repeated loop, “You were dead Eve.”

Dead. She had been dead. The whole thing was blank to her. One moment she had been talking to Raph and the next she was on the floor surrounded by noise and people with Raph pacing and looking a cross between angry and terrified. She had reached for his arm, partly to reassure him that she was OK and partly because she had been scared and needed him, but he had pulled away.

She knew why, she had always been told that the reason you must be careful as a wolf-blood, not to put yourself in harm’s way or go against your duty was partly because a werewolf could lose it altogether if someone they loved was in danger and that brought Raph’s confession to her up in a whole other light.

But he wasn’t here and she needed him. He was instead probably out trying to find what spirit had done this to her so he could give it a bad day, and that wasn’t bad, but she needed someone here, needed a hug, needed something. All of her close friends knew nothing about this crazy part of her life and wouldn’t believe her even if she could explain, so she couldn’t phone them and get them to come over because she had technically been dead for around a minute and was currently undergoing a full blown panic attack because of it. Mum was in Germany and none of her other family were near or close enough emotionally for her to break down on them.

So there was no one she could turn to and nothing she could do. A wave of helplessness swept over her and instantly the tears faded as anger followed it with burning hot intensity. That spirit had violated her, just killed her and there was nothing she could do about it. Nothing. She surged to her feet, frustration and anger carrying her temper way passed boiling point.

She kicked the door hard as she screamed out in rage. Storming through the flat the table got overturned before she started grabbing anything to hand and throwing it at the walls. She just wanted to smash things, to hurt something, anything for making her feel this way.

Eventually the anger burned out and turned to tears again. She staggered almost blindly to her room, barely managing to kick off her shoes before collapsing in a heap onto the bed. She reached out and grabbed one of her pillows, burying her head in it and holding on to it as though it were a life raft.

And as the last of the tears started to fade she slowly drifted off into a dark and uneasy sleep, full of dreams about death.