Ninian's Apartment

[Ninian]

Ninian Clancy's nightmares were always the same; she was chained to a chair and trapped inside a room with one window directly in front of her, large enough for her to watch the world pass by; crowds of people making their way towards wherever they were going to do whatever they wanted to do, paying no heed to the girl who was observing them from her tiny glass case. There was no point struggling from the restraints or trying to get free because the chains wouldn't break, nor did she want to hurt herself trying to get them off. She was very much resigned to the fact that she was bound to this chair and this room though she wasn't entirely clear about why. The question was a fleeting one, clouding her thoughts for a second before moving on like the crowds outside. Yes, she was resigned to her fate. So she just sat and watched everything move on, leaving her behind; forgotten.

Slowly from the corner of the room a black shadow would emerge, creeping across the paisley walls and worn carpet floor before gradually making it's way towards her. Panic would set in as the shadow made it's way up her body, sapping all the warmth and heat out of her as it went; it would thread through her hair like the cold, dead fingers of a corpse and almost stroke her as it wrapped itself around her face and mouth, preventing her from making a sound.

Choking. Bitter. Unbearable.

Eyes wide with terror, she would look around the now darkened room for a way to escape but there was never any hope, never any light. Her eyes would be drawn back to the window where a man was stood amid the crowds that surged around him, staring at her with empty, soulless eyes. The people would avoid him as it he were a tree; something that had always been there, was meant to be there. Her father, holding his shotgun in one hand and a rose in the other. After setting the rose on the windowsill he would put the barrel to his face. Nina would wake up as he pulled the trigger.

Each time she had the nightmare she would have to watch again and again as she relived the moment that her father shot himself to escape his own grief and insanity. Each time she had the nightmare she would wake up in a cold sweat, bolt upright and look around her room and make sure it was a dream: the paisley wallpaper; the worn carpet; the shadow that wrapped itself around her neck so she could hardly breathe. None of the therapists she had spoken to could understand why she was still having the nightmares about the incident, seeing her only problem as a chronic self-esteem issue, and could do nothing to stop the nightmares from happening. She had even tried hypnotherapy once and while getting over her fear of spiders was fine and dandy it had done nothing to stop the night terrors from returning. Still, she took solace in the fact that they didn't happen so often anymore. She hated shrinks anyway.

Sometimes she would shed a silent tear, other times she would just sit and stare at the wall, half expecting the magnolia colouring to start running and dripping off, revealing the hideous patterned paper she hated so much. Today it was the latter of the two, which was good; Nina hated to start the day crying, it put a downer on the rest of it. Pulling the covers back, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and slipped her feet into her fluffy slippers.

Today was the start of another day. For Nina it was never brand new.

[Ninian]

She leafed through her well worn copy of The Fellowship of the Ring as she held a spoonful of Cheerios in her hand, milk drip-drip-dripping into the bowl, forgotten. She's just reached a particularly good point of the book and was enraptured, even though she could probably recite the chapter word for word because this particular book (as well as the two others in the trilogy) never got old for her; the good ones never did. Once the tension was over, she put the now soggy cereal in her mouth without taking her eyes from the words on the pages. Her morning fix of fiction meant that she could let the bad dreams (if she had had them) sink slowly into the back of her subconscious whilst she concentrated on something else - it was something she'd gotten into the habit of doing at a pretty young age.

When she'd finished her bowl of cereal she put her bookmark in the page and closed the book, setting it down beside her, then went through to the kitchen to wash up. As she readied herself for another day she found her mind wandering once again to thoughts of other worlds; of dragons and sorcerers, witches and knights. She sometimes wishes she had been born into such a world but mostly she enjoys the power of her imagination and how it allows her to write her own books which she keeps intensely private.

Nina set her hairbrush onto the dresser gently and stared into her reflection. Her pale complexion was unusually pallid even for her and any hint of colour that she normally had in her cheeks had drained away during the night. Visions from the night resurfaced in her mind and she had to close her eyes and force them back. When she opened her eyes she gave a sigh and pursed her lips at the sad looking reflection staring back at her. "You need to learn to be happy," she muttered. "Then maybe the nightmares will go away."

Easier said than done, though, she continued in her head as she rose from the high-backed chair and crossed the room to her desk. There was but one way for these thoughts to be driven from her mind... Sitting down, she grabbed her writing book and flipped to the first clean page and, picking up a pen she continued her fantastical fables, letting her mind wander as far and as freely as it liked.

[Ninian]

Ninian had spent the past few hours continuing with her writing, not really wanting or needing to go out for anything in particular; most of the time she was perfectly happy being on her own in her flat. Today, however, she had found herself suddenly feeling stifled and somewhat nauseas, needing a change of air or at least a change of scenery. She knew that staying in her flat was unhealthy and would make the effort to take a walk whenever she felt the need to but she rarely did feel the need, mainly because she didn't particularly like having to go out into the big wide world for anything other than the necessary.

Still, not one to ignore what her body was telling her, she had put her writing away and dressed for a little outing, cracking the windows open a sliver so that when she returned the air in her flat would be slightly fresher.

Continued in; The Hallway

[Ninian]

For the most part Ninian didn't notice the glances that were aimed in her direction because she was more concerned with working out how to make Russell as comfortable as possible. Thankfully he remained okay as they both entered her flat and she turned to quickly close the door one-handed. She then carefully set the bag of groceries onto the nearest flat surface - the dining table - then pulled a chair out from under said table, smiling as she motioned for Russell to sit down. The open window hadn't had a chance to freshen the room up very much, so she quickly padded over to the window which she had left open and decided to widen the gap a little more so that more fresh air could circulate.

It was quite bizarre for Ninian to have someone other than herself in her flat, so she wasn't entirely sure what she should be doing. Thankfully her flat was as tidy as she remembered, and the only thing that was out of place was the blank notepad and pen on the dining table, as well as the pile of newspapers by the door that she had been intending to take out to the trash later on; thankfully that wasn't enough of an eyesore to be embarrassing, though.

She returned the short distance to the dining table. "Can I get you a drink? A glass of water, perhaps?" She had some other drinks but hoped he didn't want anything substantially stronger, as she didn't have any alcohol in the flat.

[Ninian]

Ninian was perfectly happy for Russell to take all the time he needed to, and was wondering herself if he would be able to get back out into the hallway, especially after such a bad experience. If the need arose she would offer to walk with him out of the building or to wherever his destination was meant to be in the first place, as company or as a distraction, whichever worked, but for now he could stay where he was to collect his own thoughts. At least bringing him to her flat was apparently the right thing to do, as he seemed to have recovered considerably, even surprisingly so given the state he was in only minutes earlier.

She smiled and nodded at his soft reply, walking through to the kitchen and returning to his side moments later with a tall glass of cold water, moving the notepad out of the way a little so she could place it within easy reach. Quite honestly alcohol didn't affect her too badly, she just found the taste to be horrible, and as such would rather just have a soft drink or plain water when given the choice, however much of a child that made her seem. She wasn't too worried about what others thought of her drinking habits though, and it wasn't as if she was often out in situations where that might seem odd.

Taking a seat beside him she shot him a concerned look. "Is there anything else I can get you? Or is there maybe someone I can contact for you?"

[Ninian]

POST TIMESKIP

Ninian gave a disgruntled sigh as she held the empty milk-carton upside down, shaking it long after the last few drops had fallen into her tea, as if the action would somehow make more magically appear from thin air. After peering inside she eventually set it down beside her mug, finally accepting that yes, it really was empty. She had actually meant to go get some earlier in the day but had, as per usual, managed to get herself wrapped up in her own literary world, writing the hours away so that before she knew it, it was dark. In her own defence, she was positive that there was at least half a carton left. Apparently she was wrong.

She sighed again, staring at her still mostly black tea. There really was nothing for it, she had to go get some milk. Quite certain that her pyjamas were not a suitable outfit to wear when walking down the street to the shop, she changed into whatever she could grab first, which happened to be just jeans and a t-shirt.

Over the past few weeks quite a lot had changed, though to most people she supposed it wouldn’t be that big a deal. She felt less uncomfortable about going out and about the possibility of interacting with strangers and felt a little more confident about being out and about, and could feel that she was walking differently; less hunched over and old-crone-like, though she still looked and acted very timid and shy. She had been making an effort to be a little more sociable, initiating conversations with people more often and trying to seem less skittish. In fact, the incident with Russell had made her realise that people aren’t all that scary, not for the most part.

It had been nice talking to Russell once he had calmed down enough to do so – or, well, it was mostly her doing the talking to try and distract him as much as she possibly could – and they made small talk until he was happy enough to make the journey home, which he had insisted on doing on his own, though she had offered to walk at least part the way there. There were quite a few times during the past couple of weeks that she wondered if he was doing okay, but he hadn’t seen him at all since then, so she hoped he was doing well.

She trotted to the door whilst slinging her bag over her shoulder and opened the door, oblivious to the envelope that was being pushed beneath it.