(no subject)
WHO: Anna Neumeyer
WHERE: House, building 3 on map.
TIME OF DAY: Late afternoon.
POST SUMMARY: Anna arrives.
Anna was sick of it all.
She couldn't stand it anymore, the hypocrisy, the lying. She hated it when her mother looked the other way when she mentioned Wendla or Moritz, hated that neither of her parents couldn't answer her questions. "Why did she have to die?" she asked, wanting desperately to know. Her mother looked at her stonily and demanded that Anna go to her room. So she ran upstairs, crying. She knew that Wendla's death wasn't normal, knew that what had happened was wrong. Why couldn't they see it too?
She fell on her bed, sobbing. Why couldn't they understand? Anna just wanted the world to be right again, wanted Wendla back, wanted those long, happy days back of spending time on the bridge gossiping about boys. But those days were long gone now.
Anna eventually stopped sobbing enough to end up falling into a deep sleep, exhausted by sorrow. And when she awoke, she lifted her head, half-expecting her mother to be there by her side, comforting her as she had when Anna was a little girl. But her mother wasn't there. And neither was her room, actually. None of her house was there, it seemed--just a small, dusty, and admittedly scary room. "Mama?" she called out shakily. "Are--are you there?" She carefully sat up, wiping the dust from her hands. "Is--is anyone there?" She walked out of the room into what seemed to be a deserted street. Her hands were clammy with fear, and she struggled to keep back tears.
"Hello?"
WHERE: House, building 3 on map.
TIME OF DAY: Late afternoon.
POST SUMMARY: Anna arrives.
Anna was sick of it all.
She couldn't stand it anymore, the hypocrisy, the lying. She hated it when her mother looked the other way when she mentioned Wendla or Moritz, hated that neither of her parents couldn't answer her questions. "Why did she have to die?" she asked, wanting desperately to know. Her mother looked at her stonily and demanded that Anna go to her room. So she ran upstairs, crying. She knew that Wendla's death wasn't normal, knew that what had happened was wrong. Why couldn't they see it too?
She fell on her bed, sobbing. Why couldn't they understand? Anna just wanted the world to be right again, wanted Wendla back, wanted those long, happy days back of spending time on the bridge gossiping about boys. But those days were long gone now.
Anna eventually stopped sobbing enough to end up falling into a deep sleep, exhausted by sorrow. And when she awoke, she lifted her head, half-expecting her mother to be there by her side, comforting her as she had when Anna was a little girl. But her mother wasn't there. And neither was her room, actually. None of her house was there, it seemed--just a small, dusty, and admittedly scary room. "Mama?" she called out shakily. "Are--are you there?" She carefully sat up, wiping the dust from her hands. "Is--is anyone there?" She walked out of the room into what seemed to be a deserted street. Her hands were clammy with fear, and she struggled to keep back tears.
"Hello?"