(no subject)
WHO: Megan Kinney
WHAT: solo log
WHERE: Truth or Consequences
WHEN: today
WARNINGS: not really
SUMMARY: Megan isn’t handling anything well.
Even though Megan didn’t live at the motels anymore, she still sought solace in the quietness at the bottom of the empty pool. The water had been drained out over a year ago and no one had bothered trying to refill the thing. Sure, no one wanted to swim in the pool where a dead body had been discovered, but it had turned out to be the perfect spot for sunbathing.
At the moment, no one was participating in that activity. The sky was cloudy and there was a bit of wind that traveled down into the depths of the cement making it colder than usual in the shade. It suited Megan’s mood just fine, and she pulled the hood of her coat tighter against her face.
She’d been sitting in the pool for nearly an hour, leaning back against the wall and staring off into space. Her hands were trembling from the chilliness, but she didn’t do much to warm them, almost as though she was inviting the cold to invade her body. She desperately wanted to feel something beside the numbness that had taken hold ever since Alison had died.
Sure, she was able to smile and laugh and put on that act that everyone seemed to want her to do to show that she was okay, but it didn’t follow through to her core. There was a stillness inside of her that she couldn’t quite shake and it frightened her more than she could voice. She didn’t know how to force it away. Not even spending hours pouring over her sketchbooks helped. She could draw a million different objects and still feel hollow. There was none of the passion that she usually instilled in each drawing and she ripped them all up as soon as she was finished, then disposed of them in the dumpster behind the house so Ali and Warren wouldn’t see.
Megan didn’t want to worry them. She didn’t want to worry anyone, but she didn’t know what to do anymore. She didn’t want to talk to anyone, didn’t even want to listen to Alison’s cd. She only wanted the silence to encompass her and bring her away from all the noise that did nothing to make her feel.
She desperately missed how passionate she used to be about everything. She missed becoming angry with the idiots at school, twirling around excitedly to one of Ali’s new songs, or pouring her heart and soul into her artwork.
Nothing seemed to awaken anything inside of her anymore, and that scared her more than the thought of more people she loved dying. She had no clue what to do about it.
So, she continued to sit, staring at nothing, and hoped the cold day would bring forth some clarity.
WHAT: solo log
WHERE: Truth or Consequences
WHEN: today
WARNINGS: not really
SUMMARY: Megan isn’t handling anything well.
Even though Megan didn’t live at the motels anymore, she still sought solace in the quietness at the bottom of the empty pool. The water had been drained out over a year ago and no one had bothered trying to refill the thing. Sure, no one wanted to swim in the pool where a dead body had been discovered, but it had turned out to be the perfect spot for sunbathing.
At the moment, no one was participating in that activity. The sky was cloudy and there was a bit of wind that traveled down into the depths of the cement making it colder than usual in the shade. It suited Megan’s mood just fine, and she pulled the hood of her coat tighter against her face.
She’d been sitting in the pool for nearly an hour, leaning back against the wall and staring off into space. Her hands were trembling from the chilliness, but she didn’t do much to warm them, almost as though she was inviting the cold to invade her body. She desperately wanted to feel something beside the numbness that had taken hold ever since Alison had died.
Sure, she was able to smile and laugh and put on that act that everyone seemed to want her to do to show that she was okay, but it didn’t follow through to her core. There was a stillness inside of her that she couldn’t quite shake and it frightened her more than she could voice. She didn’t know how to force it away. Not even spending hours pouring over her sketchbooks helped. She could draw a million different objects and still feel hollow. There was none of the passion that she usually instilled in each drawing and she ripped them all up as soon as she was finished, then disposed of them in the dumpster behind the house so Ali and Warren wouldn’t see.
Megan didn’t want to worry them. She didn’t want to worry anyone, but she didn’t know what to do anymore. She didn’t want to talk to anyone, didn’t even want to listen to Alison’s cd. She only wanted the silence to encompass her and bring her away from all the noise that did nothing to make her feel.
She desperately missed how passionate she used to be about everything. She missed becoming angry with the idiots at school, twirling around excitedly to one of Ali’s new songs, or pouring her heart and soul into her artwork.
Nothing seemed to awaken anything inside of her anymore, and that scared her more than the thought of more people she loved dying. She had no clue what to do about it.
So, she continued to sit, staring at nothing, and hoped the cold day would bring forth some clarity.