Apr. 5th, 2012

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[A soft sob... Coming from behind the clinic in town. There, a young, dark haired woman is curled in a ball, releasing more pent-up emotion than she has in quite a while. She's freaking out, and no surprise, all things considered. After all, she just woke up in a strange place, in clothing she's never seen, with wings.

It doesn't help that to her, this is just a sign that her schizophrenia is getting worse. It also doesn't help that the dress is vaguely reminiscent of the clothes patients wear at mental hospitals; she half believes she's in one.

Even though it's spring, it's a little nippy, and she's shivering in her thin cotton dress. She hasn't noticed the journal sitting by her feet, but she has at least stopped crying, though her breathing is still rapid.]


I don't know if I want this to be real or not...

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Cayla Reed

January 2013

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