ArchivedLogs:Vignette - Early Morning

Vignette - Early Morning
Dramatis Personae Anette
In Absentia	2015-08-06 Sometimes tea and TV aren't enough
Location Anette's Apartment
Anette's wings are broken and, in slow motion, she’s falling backgrounds. The ground catches up to her both quickly and painfully slow. Above her, an image of Daken is screaming in rage that only the pain of loss can provoke before being replaced with an infant, crying and holding his arms out towards Anette. The images shrink as Anette continues to fall, her wings useless. She reaches above her but only succeed waving the images away until she is alone. Turning her head, the ground has suddenly picked up speed, coming closer and closer until… Anette is awoken by her own scream, jerking upright in her bed, her eyes wide and face pale in terror. A few seconds elapse before it sinks in she’s safe in her own apartment. She falls backwards, pulse racing and chest heaving as she catches her breath. Laying perfectly still, it might look as if she’s trying to get back to sleep except for the fact her eyes are wide awake. Roughly five minutes pass before Anette jerks the covers off of her and gets out of bed. The sun is just beginning to rise and the sky outside her window is still black though streams of pink and orange line the buildings. Wearily, she makes her way over to her kitchen, opening cabinets and doors. Pulling out a mostly clean mug, she fills it with water and puts it in the microwave, setting the timer for a minute. She then proceeds to collect a few sugar cubes and a tea bag, staring impatiently at the microwave until it’s a second away from beeping. Carefully removing the mug, she drops everything in it and clutches the mug, giving it a moment to steep as she makes her way to the couch. She clicks on the television, leaving the channel alone to play a morning talk show while she casually sips at the tea. Once the mug is emptied, most of the sky is bright pink yet Anette appears no less startled by the dream. With a groan, she clicks off the TV and holds the empty, cool mug in her hands as she stares at the floor. After staring at the floor, lost in her own thoughts for a moment, she slowly rises, making her way back to the kitchen area. She sets the mug in the sink and heads back to the same cabinet she pulled the tea from. Reaching all the way into the furthest corner, she pulls out a small zip lock bag. She empties the contents of the bag on the counter, a fine white powder. There’s just enough to form a thin line with the help of a butter knife. Also fallen out of the bag and on to the counter is a straw, cut to a few inches length. She holds it between her fingers for a moment, as if contemplating whether or not to proceed but within a few seconds, she has the straw pressed to her nose and she’s leaning over the counter.