(no subject)
It's been a week since she showed up, give or take a day or two, and Lily's barely left the clinic.
She can only stay for so long, though, so now she's leaving, all dressed like she arrived in her tattered purple dress, revealing the stitches still in her upper arms, her pair of gold heels dangling from the fingers of one hand. A week with little sleep has finally started to take a toll on her, to show in the way she looks, dark circles under her eyes from being kept awake every night by memories of what happened. It's worse when she does sleep, too, with all the nightmares, waking up drenched in sweat, so she deals with it as best she can. There's nothing else she can do, after all.
Those are all the words she can decribe it with, really, what happened. Everything else sounds too absurd or makes too little sense; she still doesn't know what that thing was, even, so pinning another word to it hardly seems like something she ought to do. She doesn't know what happened to the rest of them, either, and that's most of what she can think about -- Rob and Beth and Hud, and then Marlena, Jason. What she came from makes less sense than this place, as unlikely as it sounds, it's easier for her to wrap her head around, making it all the more unsettling, somehow.
At the doorway to what she heard someone call the rec room, Lily still can't help but glance over her shoulder. There's nothing there, of course, nothing that shouldn't be, but it puts her on edge -- maybe even moreso than if she were right and there was something behind her -- enough that rather than crossing to a couch like she'd planned, she walks to the kitchen instead, sinking down into a chair instantly.
Even there, she doesn't feel safe, but it's not running and it's not sleeping, so it'll have to do.
She can only stay for so long, though, so now she's leaving, all dressed like she arrived in her tattered purple dress, revealing the stitches still in her upper arms, her pair of gold heels dangling from the fingers of one hand. A week with little sleep has finally started to take a toll on her, to show in the way she looks, dark circles under her eyes from being kept awake every night by memories of what happened. It's worse when she does sleep, too, with all the nightmares, waking up drenched in sweat, so she deals with it as best she can. There's nothing else she can do, after all.
Those are all the words she can decribe it with, really, what happened. Everything else sounds too absurd or makes too little sense; she still doesn't know what that thing was, even, so pinning another word to it hardly seems like something she ought to do. She doesn't know what happened to the rest of them, either, and that's most of what she can think about -- Rob and Beth and Hud, and then Marlena, Jason. What she came from makes less sense than this place, as unlikely as it sounds, it's easier for her to wrap her head around, making it all the more unsettling, somehow.
At the doorway to what she heard someone call the rec room, Lily still can't help but glance over her shoulder. There's nothing there, of course, nothing that shouldn't be, but it puts her on edge -- maybe even moreso than if she were right and there was something behind her -- enough that rather than crossing to a couch like she'd planned, she walks to the kitchen instead, sinking down into a chair instantly.
Even there, she doesn't feel safe, but it's not running and it's not sleeping, so it'll have to do.