KINDRED. ━ enola holmes. ( ✔️)

II. FAMILY FEUD.

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              THE DEEP COLORED WOODEN FLOOR spun under her feet. Vivienne had no clue what she was doing to be honest. Avoiding her family members that littered her house (except for the select few, of course) was a tedious task, and now it was made even harder by the help flooding the hallways with panic present on their faces, limiting places she could use to make an escape. It felt as if fate loathed her, and with every step she took, it became more infuriated and more interested in causing her demise. An overreaction, maybe, though it was necessary in fueling her desire to find a room to catch a breath in. And with a house that big you'd think it'd be easy, but alas, the only spaces empty were broom closets. 

               She took what she could get.

               Vivienne had always been slightly claustrophobic. She didn't exactly know why, seeing as she'd never been in a stressful situation including a tight space, though it appeared anyway as she discovered around the age of ten during an intense game of hide and seek. Being stuck in a broom closet wasn't helping her case, either. If she stuck her arms out she'd have to bend them at the wrist in order to fit in the space. Add in old knick knacks that had been shoved in there over the years, a toy doll who was definitely blinking, and of course, brooms and dustpans, and you've got yourself an example of the situation she was in. Now, she'd never enjoyed coming into the broom closets, with both claustrophobia and just an avid dislike for musty closets in general, but now seemed to an exception. A sense of stability, a tie to reality. That's what it was.

              All she needed was a moment to process. Her family congregating all together for the first   time in a while- though only a year, it felt like forever. This year had changed so much for her, and that left so many loose ends for her family to pick at. God, she hated that. When they jeered at her, it was teasing. But when she did it back it was considered disrespect. Hypocritical, yes. Changeable? No. That was when something snapped in her mind. A voice, faint and velvety, echoed through her mind.

              Escape. 

             That hurricane of emotions came sweeping back up, eating away at her thoughts. Her mind foggy, arms gone limp. Her knees nearly buckled under the pressure of it all. The storm running through her veins had taken over the fear. Whatever this was, it was exhilarating. It was as if she reached her hand out she could grasp it within her own fingers. The courage to run far, far away from here. It was exciting, and it was begging for an escape. Clawing at her chest, rising up through her throat, bubbling up in her ears. The years of imprisonment in this idiotic manor had caused this. All those frustrated sighs, rude remarks, every single choice had lead her to this moment- where she felt as if nothing could touch her. The power surging through her veins made her feel as if she was being lifted up.