#▌ ⁑╰ ii. looks / you’re beautiful ∎ ჻ sʞool .

[medusacomplex]

CYCLICAL HISTORY: '89, nancy drops out of college and doesn't tell anyone, leaves jon behind without even an official breakup to consider closure. escapes nyc for chicago. '97, nancy goes into hiding, does not indicate her plans to anyone close to her but does try in earnest to do it better this time around. escapes chicago for, ultimately, nyc.

[screwthat]

Dear Barbara,     It’s been a while since I wrote to you. I think about you all the time, so sometimes I still make up letters in my head, and I guess, to me, that feels good enough. It’s not like you’ll read these; they’re diary entries, anyway. And you’re dead. But it felt like a good idea to write today. Do something tangible. I’ve been thinking about your grave, recently. I think because we got this massive surge of rain last week, and I saw this, like, sort of miniature mud slide on the side of the road when I was driving to school. And I was wondering, how heavy would that rain have to be to dig down into your grave and bring you back up. Would you float out from the cemetery, end up in a coffin-boat right outside the general store on Main?

Probably not, obviously. But it’s been on my mind, just how to take care of you. And when I’m not there, who is? Are there flowers at your grave? Has anyone stopped by lately? To make sure you aren’t lonely. Or just to say hello, even just in passing. God, you should’ve seen Jason. He was so... angry, about Chrissy. I couldn’t help but remember spotting him laughing at some dumb joke about the “chemical spill” that everyone still thinks killed you. I know he didn’t realize I saw him, or that I heard. No one ever does. For a while they were mean, like, genuinely, actually cruel. But they stopped after we held your funeral. I always thought that was funny. They stopped making jokes in front of me, stopped asking me out on fake dates and talking about that stupid marquee. But they didn’t care, not really. It was just how they were supposed to act. How they were meant to be.

I’m sorry I haven’t been by lately. With the “earthquake”, with everything... I saw something, a while ago. I haven’t really talked about it too much, because, you know, it just feels like, with everything going on, it feels sort of stupid. It didn’t happen. But I saw it, and it felt real. It was like my old nightmares, the visceral kinds, but more... real, somehow. It’s brought them back, in part, but instead of just being of you, it’s everything. It’s Mike. Mom. Holly. Jon. I almost tried praying the other night, which felt dumb, you know? I used to cry when I prayed, every night. I’d wait until the last moment to go to bed, knowing I’d see you. Knowing you wouldn’t say anything. Knowing how I’d wake up again. And you wouldn’t. 

I had this enormous sense of guilt about surviving, and I still do. But I think I’ve changed some perspective, at least in part. I take the guilt and I let it sort of just build up like some sort of tension, like mentos in soda or something. And I use it differently. That’s helpful, now. It works in crisis, you know, but not really in, like, day to day. I’ve tried to fix it, or bury it, because I mean, what’s the possibility of actually avoiding that feeling? Realistically. I still see you in everything. Everywhere. And that triggers the guilt, and that turns into something else, like, this weird... twisting, gnawing sort of feeling.

I couldn’t tell you if that was smart, or good, or better than whatever it was I used to be. But I’m not sad, anymore. I’ve stopped crying. I don’t dread seeing you in my dreams, or even in my nightmares. They’ve become kind of... easy. That’s not the right word, I guess, but I suppose I’ve just become numb to that sort of fear. That paranoia used to be overwhelming. I still have that coffee machine under my bed, I guess just as a precaution now. Might need it soon again, all things considered. But I don’t want you to freak, you know. Things changed. I used to feel powerless, like the people I loved being taken, being hurt, being killed, like that was all inevitable. But I don’t think like that anymore. 

I hate the person I am now, but I think, since I lived, since I did survive, I had to become this girl. I’m not scared, Barb. I’m not powerless. I’m not a coward. Not anymore. These days, I’m angry.

Always yours, N.R.W.

[medusiac]

i  found  you.      i  found  the  door.          –––         w.   @faberges.

[screwcool]

                             dear barbara,      i’ve seen enough of this. of rot. and of death. i’m getting sick of it, of surrounding myself with it, both willfully and without meaning to. i hate the number of bodies i’ve seen. i hate that each one makes me think of you. of jane. i hate the feeling in my gut, i hate the hurt it gives it bury it, and i think, sometimes, that i just want to stop altogether. but it’s a little late, now, i think. i think it’s just too late.      n.r.w.

[screwcool-a]

▌ ⁑╰   tag.      drop    /    b*tch    ∎ ჻ (: .

[medusacomplex]

i stand apart from the rest –– i had so much to give. where does my life go? those close to me may know .... i've squandered my time.

i stand apart from the rest –– i now must confess: i play a selfish game ... only i am the one to blame.

EDIT : the alienation of 𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐲 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐫.

[screwthat]

    [ oh  my  god,      she’s  such  a  priss. ]        turns  out  ––  not  really.

[screwthat]

           FROM   THE   WORLD    OF    𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑    𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒   ––––    STARRING   𝙽𝙰𝙽𝙲𝚈  𝚆𝙷𝙴𝙴𝙻𝙴𝚁   AS   𝙏𝙃𝙀   𝙈𝙀𝘿𝙐𝙎𝙄𝘼𝘾.     (  not  a  promo  but  writing  partners  can  rb  if  u  like!  )

[screwthat]

GOD  REST  MY  SOUL :      i  miss  who  i  used  to  be.

[medusiac]

GOTHIC   HORROR    TROPES      +       SCREWCOOL   CANON.

[screwcool]

college  study   /     i  think  this  is  the  life  i  could  have  lived.   in  another  world.

[screwcool]

        i don’t wanna know who i am ,    cause heaven only knows what i’d find !    i don’t wanna know i’m not capable of coming out alive .

[screwcool]

an  exploration  into  a  medieval  /  fantasy  arc :     the  house  wheeler  is  an  unremarkable  one,  and  little  thought  of  prior  to  a  betrayal  which  would  mark  the  corruption  of  its  own  reputation.  the  eldest  daughter  of  the  family,  directly  following  the  death  of  her  closest  friend  by  odd  circumstance,   approached  and  was  naive  enough  to  confront  local  representatives  of  the  sovereign,  and  in  the  process  found  such  disappointing,  careless  answers,  that  against  their  warnings,  she  sought  answers  herself.  only  finding  more  and  more  to  condemn  the  very  monarch  she  had  been  so  blindly  faithful  to  previously,   she  begins  slowly  but  surely  distancing  herself  from  her  family  and  community,  before  isolating  herself  altogether  and  exiling  herself  from  the  kingdom.  renouncing  her  loyalty,  she  takes  up  a  life  of  hunting,  seeking,  and  treachery,  with  an  ultimate  aim  to  take  down  the  very  thing  responsible  for  her  friend’s  death.

[screwcool]

(   i  want  to  live  but  all  the  years  before  won’t  let  me  be  –––  )

[screwcool]

[screwcool]

s1  /   s2   /   s3   /   adult   nanc   –––    as  tagged  by  this  post  on  @lightspoke   !