Laugh it off ||Milo||
Dec 17, 2008 8:20:49 GMT -5
Post by Brea Wilson on Dec 17, 2008 8:20:49 GMT -5
It was a nice day. The sun was shining and a light layer of frost made the whole world seem prettier than it was - a chilly breeze was the only down side to the weather, but for Brea it was acting as something of a wake-up call. She was never really awake until she first got a breath of fresh air in the morning, and air didn't come much fresher than this. She hummed to herself as she struggled to shove a handful of books into her bag as she headed out. She wasn't entirely certain where she was going, but she knew she had to be somewhere other than here. A familiar pounding was starting in the back of her head and she knew what it meant. Even as she walked things seemed to speed up, and she found herself grinning madly, with a burning desire to run rather than walk. But she would control herself, at least until she was off campus. She had been hoping to survive until the Christmas holidays before her next episode, but from the way her body was acting today it seemed unlikely. Her humming got louder as she sped up to a skip, her whole body starting to vibrate slightly with tensed nerves and adrenaline.
She felt as though she could do anything, and whilst the little rational part of her that was left argued that that was just her screwed up manic depression talking she found it hard to listen. Soon the little rational voice was gone completely, the space where it had been now filled with irrational paranoia. All these people... did they know about her past? Were they all disgusted with her, just as she was disgusted by herself. And just like the the last hint of 'normal brea' vanished in a puff of smoke and she stopped skipping, speeding up to a hard sprint. She needed to force this strange feeling out of herself like she had failed to do so many times before... Suddenly she pelted into something solid, and glanced up fearfully into a familiar face. For a moment she was torn between hugging him or turning and running far far away. She swallowed hard and forced the way she felt to the back of her mind, offering a shaking greeting. "Yo Milo. How's it hanging?" Just seeing someone familiar was enough to remind her of who she was, and she felt ever so slightly calmer. Milo would protect her. From what? From herself. If he was here she could keep herself under control, and everything would be alright.
She felt as though she could do anything, and whilst the little rational part of her that was left argued that that was just her screwed up manic depression talking she found it hard to listen. Soon the little rational voice was gone completely, the space where it had been now filled with irrational paranoia. All these people... did they know about her past? Were they all disgusted with her, just as she was disgusted by herself. And just like the the last hint of 'normal brea' vanished in a puff of smoke and she stopped skipping, speeding up to a hard sprint. She needed to force this strange feeling out of herself like she had failed to do so many times before... Suddenly she pelted into something solid, and glanced up fearfully into a familiar face. For a moment she was torn between hugging him or turning and running far far away. She swallowed hard and forced the way she felt to the back of her mind, offering a shaking greeting. "Yo Milo. How's it hanging?" Just seeing someone familiar was enough to remind her of who she was, and she felt ever so slightly calmer. Milo would protect her. From what? From herself. If he was here she could keep herself under control, and everything would be alright.