<div class="floatleft"> (http://katidamo.wikispaces.com/file/view/MadelynHeadshot.JPG/378449894/MadelynHeadshot.JPG)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Madelyn Kovac<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Jack's Apartment<br/><strong>Wearing:</strong>Gray Hoodie, Phantom Tee, Blue jeans, and Gray sneakers.<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Anyone<br/><br/>His eyes were like broken stained glass. Beautiful, frightful, sharp and painful. Cracking under the weight of the world. She saw the embers of something amazing and horrible in those eyes, and she fell into it. She was seared and burned and consumed by the blaze of knowledge. One foot in the darkness and the other in the light. A groan of pain escaped her lips. It was so much worse than the headaches she got, but she already knew this wouldn't be the worst of it.<br/><br/>Was she being shown something? She couldn't see anything - It was too bright in this place... Or was it too dark? - It was impossible to tell. From what felt like a great distance she heard Michael's voice cut through the paradox in which she found herself. He asked her if she understood, and she felt the pressure of him squeezing her hand.<br/><br/>No she didn't understand. He had meant to show her. But she didn't see anything. Had he failed? She heard the din of Jack's apartment like she was stuffed in a closet. Noises she couldn't hear. Moments passed and she still felt trapped, but now had an impending sense of doom. As if she were tied to the tracks in front of an oncoming train. She felt the simultaneous deafening silence and cacophony.<br/><br/>Many moments passed as Madelyn was frozen in place. The activity in the apartment continued oblivious to the crisis unfolding in her mind. Now she knew he hadn't failed. Then the train hit and she fell to its force. She dropped to her knees, panting. The pain built and built. She nearly cried out, but clenched her teeth and only whimpered softly. She felt she might die, here and now, quivering in pain on the floor of a classmate's apartment at the end of the world, but she was determined not to give up. She still clutched a hand that could lead her back to herself.<br/><br/>Then she could see. Scenes of what may come to pass. Choices they could make unfurled like balls of yarn dropped onto a sloped floor. Someone - maybe several someones - in a gun store. There were allies. There were enemies. Bikers and chaos. The bikers lose. The bikers win. People are Maimed. Those people would have been saved if she'd reached them in time. But there was still time. They'd have to be quick. The vision started to filter away from her, as if the visions were a sea and she was about to break back to the surface of the water.<br/><br/>But there was more, and if she dove again, she'd be able to see it. So without breaking the surface, without taking a breath, she looked again. They had no reason not to go to the store. In fact it was imperative. They wouldn't survive without the vital supplies they'd find there. And to stay in the light, they had to at least try to save those people.<br/><br/>Something was wrong. The vision was gone. Suddenly Madelyn knew she'd overdone it by not taking the chance to stop when she could. She was drowning in this metaphor she'd built for the vision. Though she still had an iron grip on Michael's hand, she could no longer feel it there. Outwardly, her grip loosened and her arm fell limp. To the others, she looked like she was having some sort of seizure. She was lost in the darkness and she despaired. She'd probably be lost forever.<br/><br/>Then a tiny shred of hope materialized as a face appeared in her mind like a half forgotten dream. Back east, on the mantle of her childhood home, there used to sit a picture of a beautiful woman bearing a serene smile. It was the kind of picture that the eyes would follow you wherever you went. She was like an angel always watching over her. The image of her mother.<br/><br/>After what felt an eternity, Madelyn abruptly sat up and opened her eyes. She could tell by the warm and damp on one side of her face that the trail of blood from her eye had once again appeared. It would be no surprise to her if she was suddenly surrounded by concerned faces. She would take any aid that was offered as she slowly got back to her feet, still reeling from a distinct feeling of 'what the hell just happened'.<br/><br/>Maddy felt ill and weak, but she needed to speak now while the vision was fresh in her mind.<strong>"We need to get to the gun store"</strong>She looked to Michael as if he were a teacher that might grade her on her interpretation.<strong> "Cabella's. As fast as we can. There are people that will die if we don't aid them. There are also supplies there. I don't know how much time we have, but I know are quickly running out of it."</strong>She said the next sentence with reluctance, but they needed to know.<strong>"We will have to be ready for a fight." </strong><br/><br/>With that she would dab her face with the handkerchief Jack had given her earlier and stumble towards one of the couches to lie down. She'd close her eyes and moan weakly.<strong>"Shit balls of fire, Michael. It is always so bad, or is it just because I'm new at this?"</strong>It wasn't a complaint, but a show of empathy for how much he must have suffered.<strong>"Please, someone. Is there any coffee? Cream and Five sugars."</strong><br/><br/>Coffee was like medicine to her. Somehow it always made her feel better, no matter how bad she felt - and now more than ever, she could use the extra energy.