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

309

Anne's POV:

I don't remember much. Everything was a blur. A stressful, traumatic, scarring blur.

I felt a hand trailing forcefully down my waist. A hand colliding with my cheek. I remember being shoved, being beaten. I recall feeling vulnerable. I remember feeling pain. I was so scared. I didn't know what was happening, and I didn't know how to stop it.

Deja vu as a harsh, extreme sadist.

No no no. Stop it. Wake up.

You're stronger than this.

I don't feel anything. I don't feel anything at all.

I said it, willing myself to believe it, but I couldn't. 

A tie and my scarf on the floor, a terrible, sickening familiar feeling.

A face.

I saw it in a simple flash, like when you wake up and remember a tiny snippet of a dream, a small fragment of your subconscious, clawing at the surface. Only to be pushed down again before you can really understand it. Not being able to understand something your mind invented makes you wanna jump off a cliff if you think about it long enough.

I forgot it as instantly as I remembered it.

No dammit! Who was it?! Focus Anne!

I pried my eyes open to see the sun shining through my window. My heartbeat was pulsing through my veins. At first all I could hear was the sound of my own breathing. Little by little my senses came back. I was used to waking up that way. Most people would go insane over that, but to be honest, I have many other things to be insane over.

And I am, apparently. All the memories of last night came flooding back.

Oh god. I still haven't told Phillip.

The realization crossed my mind as I rolled over and saw Phillip still sleeping peacefully. The clock read 7:46. He usually gets up at 8:30.

I rolled out of bed, onto the ground, yet again feeling the carpet coils poke into my sheet-lined skin.

I forced myself off the floor, and put on my coat. I walked out of our apartment, down the stairs and onto Main Street.

At first I didn't know where I was going, but my subconscious seemed to lead me somehow.

Pause. Looking back on this day, this one day, it's where it all went wrong. This is where it all turned to hell. Not my near death experience(s), not the day Phillip almost died, not the diagnoses, but this. One. Day.

Why did I have to leave the apartment?

Why did I have to go and tell the world?

Why oh why did I turn that one corner?

Resume. I walked up a couple of concrete stairs, and opened the door. I tried to remember which apartment it was. 304? 305? 6? No... Wait. I stopped walking to think a little. I reached into my coat pocket and was surprised to feel a slip of paper. When did this get here? I unfolded it and saw what, conveniently, appeared to be an apartment number. 309. I walked about 20 feet in front of me and knocked on the door.

"Just a minute." I heard the familiar voice say. That's not WD. But I recognize it...I got distracted when I turned around and looked at the painting on the wall behind me. Starry night. I smiled lightly but frowned again when I heard a voice in my head say. He's dead. He killed himself. The end. Happily ever after. I heard the door open behind me, snapping me out of my "episode."

"Louise?" I turned around with tears in my eyes and hugged the familiar figure. Sobbing I enclosed my arms around them.
"Oh my god."
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AN: Sorry I know it's a little short. Next chapter will be longer tho. I wanted to break it up in a suspenseful way. Haha. I know I'm a little evil.
-Erin💕