Hurricane - The Greatest Showman ~ Anne X Phillip {Sequel to B R O K E N; free}

Nostolgia

Anne's POV:

I was walking down Ann Street. That's funny. This is exactly where the story of my life started to unfold. So much has passed since then, so much has changed.

My life was full of opportunities then. Pretty much anything was possible. Am I happy with where it led?

I have everything I want now. An amazing apartment, a great job, a loving boyfriend. The last time I walked down this street, all I wanted was the things I have now. I was so sure that once I had them, my life would be perfect, and I would never, not for a second, question my happiness.

But...I am.

Something doesn't feel right. I feel like I've been holding my breath this last year or so. Like there's a weight on my shoulders and I can't get it off. Or I know I'm trapped in a nightmare, but I can't figure out how to wake up.

I think there's really something wrong with me.

I look at the street sign on the corner of Broadway.

And I feel something.

Just for a split second.

I feel like how I used to feel.

It was different. Much different.

I was filled with hope and a new sense of possibility. I believed in the world to change. I was ready for anything that came my way. I was beyond excited for the chase to get to what is now my life.

But now that I'm here, it doesn't feel the same.

There's no where for me to go from here.

My life couldn't be better. But it doesn't feel at all like it used to.

I looked up through the crowd of people in New York City. They were all different. But they all had a different sense of hope on their face.

I stopped to look at my reflection in a shop window. All I saw was desperation. I turned around to keep walking, dragging my feet a little as I did so.

I looked through the crowd once more. I noticed a figure, standing still. I couldn't see their face with all of the people walking in front of them.

Most people would've just kept walking.

Most people would've just ignored it.

Why the hell didn't I?

I stared intently, focusing hard. I walked closer, not thinking clearly.

Have you ever looked for something you didn't want to find? Have you ever been searching, looking so hard in every possible place it could be, hoping to god it wasn't there?

That's exactly how it felt.

When I saw them.

When I saw him.

When I saw him.

He didn't move, he didn't even blink, or noticeably breathe. He just stared at me, in the middle of that busy street on the corner of Broadway. Where it all began.

Is this where it all ended?

He still didn't move, he barely acknowledged the fact that I was standing there, in front of him.

As I stood there on that street on the corner of Broadway, I felt something.

Something inside me...

Just...

Snap.

I was so tired of living like this. I was so exhausted from living in fear. Running from everything that scared me. I always thought that my fears had some sort of right over me. Like I was obligated to follow their every thought, and cater to their every whim.

But you know what?

F**k that.

They have nothing on me. I have nothing to loose.

I stood on that street on the corner of Broadway, and felt a fire start inside me. But this one was different than the others. This one wasn't lovesick or passionate. It wasn't a simple angered moment after an argument with my brother. No.

This fire was vengeful.

I stepped off the curb.

This fire didn't just want to confront the man who caused me pain, suffering, trauma, it wanted to kill him.

I walked up to him quickly, but seemingly in slow motion. I've had a speech prepared my whole life. Of what I would say to him. Do to him. If I was ever given the chance. I made myself memorize it. Those god awful, ugly things that I never thought I would ever wish to say to anyone.

I never thought that I would ever actually be given the chance.

I saw his face. His goddamned face. I was surprised when I didn't erupt in sobs at the sight of it. Bringing back memories of the last time I saw it.

My face flustered in anger as I finally felt myself standing before him. For the first time since I was walking down Ann Street, all those years ago.

I told myself to be strong, but I still felt myself start crying uncontrollably. My sobs, were muffled into little silent cries. My lip quivered as I felt myself about to begin my speech.

He didn't move once since I first saw him.

I had practiced what I would say to him, I had practiced that speech so many times knowing that I would never ever ever take for granted the moment I got to say it.

But instead of my speech, I felt the urge to slap him. To hurt him. To make him feel what I felt. Every single day.

I pulled my hand up, tears streaming down my face as I pulled back, ready to induce pain to the man who still makes me feel pain.

I bit my lip, and choked back a sob as I watched his expressionless face. I whipped my hand across his face.

I put my head in my hands. And literally just collapsed to the ground on the middle of the sidewalk on that street on the corner of Broadway. Because I realized something utterly, terribly, horrifying.

He was never even there.
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AN: Welp. Kind of crappy but at least I updated, right? I've been pretty distracted lately. I went on vacation for spring break and while I was there with my friend we were reading all these writing prompts on Instagram and I found this really good one to develop a whole story off of. So I did. I already wrote the prologue and the description and if you guys want I can release it now even though the cover looks crappy. It's a dystopia and I think some of you would really like it. (It's called 'The Corrected' for those of you who are curious) I have no idea if it's gonna bomb or be a hit, so I guess we'll see. I'm not completely confident with my skills as a writer in terms of coming up with my own storyline, but like I said we'll see.

Ok well thanks for listening to me ramble on and as always thanks for reading 💕

-Erin 💕