"YOU THINK A RAGGEDY TEAM OF FREAKY TEENAGERS ARE GONNA FIX THIS?"
Life for Annabelle has been a whirlwind of emotion for her as she struggles through her tumultuous grief and deep unearthed trauma. Settling in the new Avengers facility with Tony a...
" i sat alone, in bed till the morning. i'm crying " they're coming for me. " and i tried to hold these secrets inside me my mind's like a deadly disease." Control ( Halsey )
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THE BLARING CALL OF A JET ENGINE STARTLED ANNABELLE OUT OF HER DREAM-LIKE STATE. She was currently occupying a seat in economy on an airplane headed towards Moscow. People gathered around her like formidable wolves surrounding a young fawn. With each passing second, tension writhed in her muscles like they were preparing to fight and there is this constant pounding in her chest. Bile churned sinisterly in her gut from the anxiety trembling through her. Everything hurt and the girl had a hard time quelling the urge to vomit or scream, or both.
Tearing her gaze away from her anxiety, Annabelle stared at the fluffy clouds present among the blue-tinged sky outside. She was located in the middle seat, a common occurrence which normally wouldn't bother her, but Annabelle was currently going through a bad mental health crisis. There is a woman to the right, sitting nearest to the window. She had a pressed suit and her thick black hair was pulled into a bun which was obviously too tight. Her skin pulled together in awkward ways and made it look like she is smiling, something that she is clearly not doing intentionally.
The woman tapped her perfectly polished black boots impatiently, almost as if she couldn't stand another second of being on this airplane. She reeked of intense dahlia and Annabelle felt a blistering head-ache settling in her mind from the stench alone. Pulling her gaze away, the girl stared at the man to her right.
He was older. Hulking, with grey hair thinning at the top and a big bracheopelic head - almost as if he's a bulldog. He too wore a suit but it was ruffled and stained in some spots. He had earphones in but started to sing out loudly as time went by. Wincing from his tone, Annabelle stared at her hands, trying to focus on anything besides how pitiful and non-threatening she looked.
For the remaining 7 hours of the flight, Annabelle ate and drank very little. She could only focus on the impending danger she would be facing soon but she also couldn't help but feel a little excited to finally get back to what she knew.
She had been away from her beloved country for so long that Annabelle also feared she may have forgotten how to act. Rationally, she knew that it couldn't be the case given how social cues and codes have been ingrained into her since childhood, yet there is always this lingering fear and dread setting rampant in her bones.
"Miss?" The voice of a young flight attendant called out worriedly. There is this recurrent smile placed on her face but Annabelle knew that it is faked. Something that had been ingrained into them ever since taking the job which pays the bills.
Annabelle whipped her head immediately in the direction of the noise. She didn't mean to fall so deep into her mind and cold wisps of uncertainty ran like freezing water, sinking into her skin. She had to repress the desire to shudder.
