forum Obsessed One-on-one RP (CLOSED; STALKERS ALLOWED)

Started November 11, 2018 by @amber_is_in_a_loop

tune

"Because…" She bit down on her lip, drawing blood. "I don't know if I can tell you."

Isobel inhaled slowly. "Alice. You are not going to be hurt."

Alice stared at Isobel. She'd heard that many a time. She said as much, still hanging back, dread surely settling in her heart.

"Why do you think they're going to hurt you? It's a hospital, they're supposed to fix you," she sighed.

"Because I'm not supposed to be free!" she cried finally.

Isobel stared for a few seconds, her mind not making the connection. “What do you mean?”

Alice froze, appalled at what she'd just said. "I–" The deed was done. "I'm supposed to be in a mental institute."

“Sorry, what?” Isobel never remembered being this shocked in her life. “You must be joking.”

Alice shut her eyes, shaking her head. "No. I'm afraid not." Pain came rushing back, but she fought to keep it at bay. "I managed to escape," but it was too little too late.

Isobel squeezed her eyes shut, taking a moment to breathe and clear her head. Naturally, both endeavours failed, leaving her confused, panicking, and betrayed.

Alice could practically feel the emotions battling through Isobel. She couldn't figure out if she should help, try to help the woman she'd dragged into this situation. She reached out a hand, but didn't move.

Isobel opened her eyes again, a steely light entering her eyes. Right. I'll deal with this later. "First things first. I have a funeral I need to get to. You need shelter."

Alice let her hand fall. "No. I can take care of myself." She noted Isobel's steely glare but didn't– couldn't react.

Isobel have an exasperated sigh, pushing everything else from her mind. She needed to focus. She needed to be efficient. There was no time for complex emotions that she could deal with later. “I can see that,” she said, slightly sarcastic. “Nice try though. You need actual shelter.”

Alice immediately picked up on the sarcasm. "Don't. Just get where you need to go." She stepped back.

(Yeah sure, what’s up?)

Isobel reached forward again, then pulled back. She couldn’t exactly force Alice to do anything… “Fine. Stay safe, okay?”

Alice nodded and pulled away, turning a corner and out of sight.
(should she still follow Isobel to the funeral?)

(yeah, sure!)

Isobel watched her go, standing there for a moment longer. Conflict flickered across her features along with the shadows cast by the setting sun– how was she supposed to feel? The woman who she had cared for despite the fact that she'd snuck into her house was an illegal escapee from an asylum, who had followed her on a ten hour bus ride all the way to Montreal– what on Earth was she supposed to do? Turn her away? Turn her in?

This is ridiculous… there's no way that this is happening to me.. But it was, and she'd just have to deal with it. Funeral first. Get that done with. Then fix.. whatever this is.

Alice breathed out, intently listening for Isobel's retreating footsteps. Once they faded, she returned to the spot she'd just left. The air hung heavy with confession– a confession she'd sworn to herself would never see the light of day. Who knew what Isobel would do now?
And she doesn't even know the half of it, Alice thought grimly. She set her jaw, unsure of what to do. Again, she had no purpose. Where was she supposed to go now that she'd promised to leave Isobel alone?
She paced for a handful of seconds, then got dizzy. She emptied her mind of all rational thoughts as all they were doing was holding her down. And now it was clearer: Isobel was Alice's link to the sake world, and she needed her.
So she followed her once more.

Skip?)

It seemed to Isobel as if all the colour had been sucked out of the world.
The trees were leafless, barren, their trunks faded. The ground was paved with uneven stone tiles that prevented even a single blade of grass from peaking through. Each gravestone was a shade of grey or black, even white. The family members, near and distant, that she saw drifting around in aimless patterns were sporting the colour of death from head to toe. And their eyes– their eyes were so lifeless, she could imagine that they were corpses, risen from their resting places beneath her feet.

She imagined she looked the same, just another guest among them, her head bowed, eyes rimmed with red. She wore no colour, only a simple black dress and a hat tilted at an angle so that it shadowed her face. And in truth, she felt more like a ghost than the many that floated through this cemetery– if they were real, of course. Just… floating. Lost, untethered, unanchored. No purpose. Merely drowning in eternal emptiness and grief.

Alice stood by the wrought iron gate, staring at the flood of people marching into the graveyard, faces drawn and empty. She pulled the stolen black overcoat tighter around herself and gingerly ventured into the mass of people. Standing at the outskirts of the crowd, she peered through the bodies until she found what she was looking for: a dark, polished casket lay proudly by a deep hole, gleaming dully beneath the overcast sky.
She gently pushed ahead of the crowd, now standing at the edge of the inner rim of the circle of grieving souls.

Isobel's stepmother made a speech she couldn't force herself to listen to, something about how 'dearly she'd loved her husband' and 'how much she'd miss him' and about how heart-wrenching it had been to lose her two children as well. Most of those lies, most likely, she would be with another man by the end of the month. But why should that matter? She was a perfect woman, and it was a colourless world.

Then, it was Isobel's turn to make her speech. She had no paper, no script to read from. She just stood behind the three coffins, one for her father, the others for her half-siblings, and cleared her throat.

During the woman's speech, a strange feeling tickled Alice's mind, almost familiarity. Deja vu.
Alice forced herself to focus, really look at the woman talking. There was something wrong, so close, but Alice couldn't get to it. Then it was Isobel's turn to speak. She blankly walked towards the three coffins, empty-handed, anc cleared her throat.

It was clear from the way that the funeral guests sniffled that Isobel's speech was touching. The speaker herself had no grasp on what she was actually saying, she was too numb for that. No, she just let the words blow through her as if she was a reed, a flute, waiting to be played. And it seemed that she was doing things right.
She didn't realize that she was crying until she felt a wetness on her cheeks and observed that it was not raining.

Alice held her breath, latching onto every word Isobel uttered. It was a beautiful speech, emotional and seemingly practiced. As soon as she started crying, Alice followed. Overcome by the shared grief weighing down on the event, her tears joined those of the men and women surrounding her, mingling with the trampled earth, and through her tears the smaller caskets became that of Jack.
Alice inhaled sharply and shut her eyes.