Annabelle's heart dropped as her legs grew weak. This had never happened before.
The rest was a blur
Frantic searching, scrambling for her Micheal. It was all useless. Crying out his name into the abyss, attempting to find comfort by that purple tree so engraved into her memory, praying that he'd hold her just one last time.
She eventually made peace with his disappearance.
That depends on your definition of peace, however.
Micheal was gone.
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Time passed: 5 years
Summary: Annabelle comes from a somewhat wealthy family, the only child of a mother and father. As years pass, Michael's memory is faint in her head and real life demands dominance over fantasy. The world was undeniably on the brink of collapse, economical instability, disputes between countries that were once allies, evil consuming the good.
The end was a lot sooner than Annabelle expected.
The money her parents did hold were ushered into protecting her by sending her to an underground bunker safe enough to preserve her life.
Despite Annabelle's efforts to remain by her family's side, her efforts were in vain
Now, barely content with her new life, she's damn near close to insanity after 18 months of refuge within in a hole in the ground known as the outpost. Shared with a few other *insufferable occupants, she grew lonely in some sense however fulfilled by her connection to the world through books.
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The Outpost library was as quiet as the grave. As noiseless as the decimated world above ground. Still enough to hear her own heartbeat thumping in her chest as the silence deafened.
The eighteen months Annabelle and her fellow residents — nay, inmates — spent at Outpost 3 had taken their toll on each individual differently. Some adapted to the desolate circumstances, some turned on each other. Annabelle turned on herself.
She used to love nighttime, as it meant that she wasn't far from Micheal. However, circumstances changed.
The hopelessness of her bleak future underground fostered incurable insomnia in the clinically bronzed Outpost, sleeplessness that soon spiralled into despair. Despair that soon spiralled into suicidal tendencies. Trying any and every method to incite punishment at the hands of Ms Venable's ruthless.
This led her to venture to the library armed with her luxury item grabbed from her bedroom before she was dragged underground — a Mazzy star soundtrack. The library's consistent soft rock soundtrack ceased for the night, but a slip of the disc into the radio and a twist of the volume knob blasted the eerie silence away.
ESTÁS LEYENDO
Chasing Little Notes
Fanfic" I think perhaps I will always hold a candle for him, even until it begins to burn my hand. And when the light has faded, I will remain there in the darkness holding what remains, simply because I cannot let go"
