<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'">His voice was at her back but she paid it no mind, too determined to maintain the facade of composure as trembling hands reached for the support of tables and chairs. Ava had never been a convincing actress after staring into the unearthly abyss, after being forced to see the intimate details in the lives of others. She never truly learned how to skillfully downplay just how incoherent she was, the disorientation of her mind as it struggled to reconcile tangible reality with the dark, abstract phantoms of the past. It always felt <i>real</i>, like she was in the moment. An unwilling passenger in her own head, sensations were palpable and intense. The visceral experience was interpreted as truth despite all knowledge to the contrary. Even now she was telling herself that the specters weren’t reaching for her, that the warped images that flashed through her mind were just that . . . Images. Harmless, misrepresentations of events that had come and gone. Despite the repeated reminders to herself, she couldn’t seem to calm down. Her heart was hammering in her chest, thumping wildly and making her breaths shallow. It was as though there weren’t enough air in the room to fill her lungs, the lump in her throat an obstruction for the inhalations she took. <br/>
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Weak footfalls did not carry her far. Ava was mere paces away, within his reach as he moved to her side swiftly. His hand was on her arm and she tensed as the ringing returned to her ears. Her lips parted, mouth fixed to tell him to let go but nothing came out. The muscles of her throat were wound into a knot, making it feel as though a cork was lodged into it. All the sensations were resurfacing, resurrecting the dead as her vision turned hazy. It was beginning to tunnel, black edges closing in. Her feet moved more quickly, clumsy and uncoordinated footsteps carrying her to the back of the restaurant where the blurry directional signs indicated to the restrooms. Ava relied on him more than she desired to. Her meandering path would have been one with tipped chairs and toppled table settings in her wake otherwise. Still, her ungraceful movements drew the attention of the quiet patrons, likely mistaking her plight for inebriation. It was preferable to the concern she could elicit, the kind of fret that made people dial 911. She knew she had to get out of sight.<br/>
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By the time they had rounded the corner her vision had done entirely black. She couldn’t see where she was going, and her hand clenched the material of his sleeve as she went completely still. Ava always noticed the faraway gazes of others, but hers was much, much further. As she paused, a hand feeling for the wall so that she could rest her back against it, her green eyes stared right through him. It was as though he weren’t there at all, and to her he wasn’t. But, she knew he was there. She was holding onto his sleeve, tight in her white-knuckled grip as images crowded her mind for the second time. It was more painful than the first, emotionally and physically. A diced scene played out before her vacant eyes, insequential pieces unfolding so rapidly she could hardly keep up. <br/>
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There was blood in the soil of the swamp, and she could smell the concoction of earth and metal. The shrill ringing was slowly replaced by more distinct sounds; cries of sorrow and anguish rising above the symphony of crickets and the lap of water on the banks. Ava could see a shadow of a man, a tall, dark presence that was oppressive and cold-- cold like the ice of its chilling blue eyes and wicked smile. That evil grin was familiar, more suited to the shroud of a being than the redhead it appeared on before. She was on the ground, her face dirtied with mud and her hair tangled with sticks and leaves. <br/>
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<i>”It’s going to be okay . . .”</i> Ava breathed, her voice barely a whisper as she repeated the words over and over again-- seemingly to herself. All the while she was hearing nefarious laughter, callous and heartless amusement over the flashes of a tormented visage. It was like a broken record, replaying and emphasizing the pain over and over again. She feared that the continuous loop would go on forever. Ava felt as helpless as she did in that moment, forced to watch her tortured expression. <i> “It’s going to be okay, Elyse.</i> She said as the image of gleaming fangs finally ending the repetition of the woman’s tearful sobs and the voice she recognized. There was no relief in the sight that broke the loop, the shine of deadly jaws evoked terror though strained words of comfort played over the startling screams. <br/>
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Ava blinked suddenly, the single flutter of her long dark lashes transporting her back to the present. Wes was in front of her again, unfocused still but there. The weakness she felt was tenfold, and had it not been for the wall behind her she would have slumped to the ground like a wet rag. Tired and winded, she could only focus on her breath-- that even the pain would subside if she could just calm down. </span>