Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-4199666-20151123124523

A/N: so i know i said i'm not really feelin awfully inspired but i thought i'd force myself to write something and here's a little drabble i wrote. tw for suicidal thoughts and drugs and stuff. it's kennedy.

p.s. feel free to like tell me this doesn't make sense or whatever i haven't edited it i just do this writing game where i have to write 500 words in 15 minutes and this is the result

'''p.p.s. '''i'm not gonna write about what kennedy did while she ran away bc she's kennedy and it involves a lot of drugs and prostitution and i don't want to get that dark here. use ur imagination if you really want to know bc i don't fully know. kennedy doesn't fully know.

It was almost three in the morning according to the clocktower across the road. She rubbed her hands together, breathing into them to try and thaw them out as best as she could. That was her first sign that her heart was starting to give up on her. She needed shelter. She needed  a blanket and a warm shower. There was a motel nearby but she was pretty sure that it had no vacancy after she checked last time. Her best bet was to find a client who could afford a nicer place where she could stay for the night, but the roads were scarce. Almost no one was out this late and she was still trying to work out what she was doing.

She stumbled over to a park bench, her feeble legs barely strong enough to hold her up. She couldn't even remember where she had left her belongings, but she didn't care for most of them. Just that jacket she brought with her. A small part of her mind was pretty sure she sold it for drug money. Her brother's jacket. The one that he gave to her when they went out playing in the snow last year. A slight tear slipped out, but she didn't have the energy or will to cry any more than that. She was shaking when she finally heard the familiar sound of her cell phone dying.

Things looked inevitable now. She needed to go home. She had to return to that place she'd ran away from and she would have to look at the brother of the man who died because of her. She would have to pretend that she didn't hate herself even more than she did before. She would have to put a voice on and tell her brother and aunt that she ran away because she wanted everyone to forget she existed. She couldn't help but criticise herself more. She couldn't even commit to running away. Shandee hadn't been seen since the day that Nick died, but she wasn't as tough as Shandee. She depended on people to help her survive. She considered it a weakness, relying on people. All she wanted was to just lose herself and live on her own where no one would notice if she went missing. No one would mind if her heart stopped beating.

The trip back was pretty quiet. She could feel her head pounding, but thankfully she was able to bum a cigarette off another man sitting at the bus station. The warmth of that filled up her lungs, even though it was more of a burning sensation than actual warmth. The bus was quiet, with only the faint buzz of headphones a few seats in front of her. And the bus was warm - not heated - but it was out of the elements. She just sat, resting her head against the window, and before she knew it she was being woken up in Miduna Beach. She wasn't even how sure she'd been on the bus. It had taken her a few days to get to where she was, but it seemed like it was the exact same time when she got back to Miduna Beach.

She managed to navigate her way back to her friend's motel room. The one place where she knew she could hide out until she was ready to face the music. She knew it was early but she knocked anyway, her heart dropping in her chest as soon as she did. It was too late to go back now. She just had to hope that he wasn't there or he couldn't hear her. Instead, he opened the door. She promised herself then and there that she would definitely not tell him what she did while she was gone. He was already way too worried about her.  