RYSLIG; ic inbox

[isawallflower]

WELCOME TO YOUR PRIVATE CHANNEL, CHEERYCHERRY. FOR SECURE COMMUNICATION, USE 019.46.820.17 *** CHEERYCHERRY has joined 019.46.820.17 <CHEERYCHERRY> It's Riley! <CHEERYCHERRY> Please leave a message! <CHEERYCHERRY> Please be someone with their priorities sorted out properly!

main: CheeryCherry
anonymous: panthera, aed
retired: gflynn (anon)

Comments

<saturnschild>

[marcato]

Why shouldn't you, Riley? I like to fix things as well.

We're one and the same.

<CheeryCherry> cw: panic attacks

[isawallflower]

no
no im not

im not im not im NOT

[ All of a sudden, her laptop is not in front of her, in her bed. It's shoved to the floor with a mighty crack and thud—they're sturdy things, it'll be fine.

Riley can't breathe. She sits straight as a board, terrified of moving yet trembling all the same. Her claws dig into, through her sheets and to her mattress. She gasps for air, as if it'll make the things in her head stop screaming, as if it'll erase the last month, months, year, years and give her even the slightest bit of guidance. She stays like that, still and tense, until something snaps and she crumples, into a little ball while the screaming moves outward, into her knees and on and on and on, until she feels completely hoarse.

And she stays there. For the longest time. Until morning. Not sleeping. Not thinking. Not answering any further messages Aunamee may send. ]