freeling: (all that glitters)
The Blind Date Meme
freeling: (serious side)
I think even the dead are disenchanted with Halloween anymore.
freeling: (beach)
The problem with LJ: we all think we are so close, but really, we know nothing about each other. So I want you to ask me something you think you should know about me. Something that should be obvious, but you have no idea about. Ask away.
freeling: (beach)
Have you ever had one of those moments where you meet someone and it seems almost too good to be true?
freeling: (pale and pondering)
Who would want to live with me?

She'd asked that of someone recently after explaining her particular gifts and the supernatural bent to them. Who, indeed? Certainly not a roommate, which is what had been suggested to her, even her own family didn’t relish the idea of living under the same roof as Carol Anne. She didn’t blame them and never had. It was perfectly understandable, really.

Of course there were those who did want to stay with her, at least temporarily. Those that sought her out, were directed to her, drawn to her, needed her. The lost and the confused. Sometimes, just the lingering ones not quite ready to move on. Carol Anne didn’t object to this either. Again, she found it (mostly) reasonable. They were guests, not trespassers and by and large completely harmless and even polite. Company.

It didn’t disturb her to see the rocking chair in the far corner moving as if on its own and unoccupied. She’d look that way and nod. Maybe answer a question or two that not many people would even hear. If the temperature dropped a few degrees as she went into the kitchenette, well she’d put on the kettle and maybe a sweater. She ignored the frequent power surges that temporarily brightened or dimmed the lighting. Radios that turned themselves on and fiddled with stations were fine too, but there had been occasions where she’d have a battle of the wills over volume controls. (Perhaps the dead don’t hear as well as the living.)

Carol Anne had no problem with her belongings being moved about the tiny apartment—well, okay maybe it was a little annoying when she could only find one shoe and not its mate. She was used to the feeling of someone sitting at the foot of her bed while she slept, the sounds of doors opening and closing, drawers being rifled through in the middle of the night. Sometimes it was even nice to see that someone had straightened the throw pillows on her futon or that the plants had been watered.

She really didn’t mind the company, it was nice not to always live alone…even if she was the only one alive in the apartment she called home.
freeling: (looking up)
Stranger in a strange land.

Cold, blue, bright, no up and no down. There was no sense of any of the cardinal directions either. I didn’t know that’s what they were called back then, I still routinely got my left and my right confused. I was only five. I just knew that I constantly felt like I’d been playing on my sit-and-spin. Dizzy. Confused. Scared out of my mind.

Being pulled in so many directions, thoughts and feelings where just as concrete there as the floor and ceiling are here. It was chaos. I wasn’t the only one confused and out of sorts, they all were. Everyone. Everyone but him. Oh, no…he always knew. He knew and he lied, pretended to be as mixed up as the rest of us so we’d trust him. Oh, how he lied. But back then, there, I believed him. He made sense. He told me he was a friend.

If you want a physical location, this place? The best I can give you is “in my house in Cuesta Verde”. I can even take you to the street but there’s nothing there now. An empty lot and a chain-link fence. The excavation has even been filled in, that was done years ago. But I wasn’t exactly in the house, not in the way that you or I are sitting in our homes right now. I was sort of between. Between what? That’s where this gets kooky.

I was between the living and the dead, I guess religious people might call it purgatory. It was sort of a weigh station, a transitory place between life and after-life. Some people talk about it, this great bright light. You know, the ones who have near-death experiences: almost drowned, maybe they crashed in the OR on the table and were brought back, people in bad accidents, coma patients. They aren’t crazy or hallucinating, they’ve just gotten to experience a small glimpse of the next state of consciousness. Where we go when we leave our bodies behind.


It’s a strange place. It isn’t the next place, it’s just where you go to get there. Or that’s how it is supposed to be, but he kept them there. Didn’t let them leave and go on. It made them scared and confused, angry and sad. And he fed on that. On them. But not me. I was there to keep them there. They thought I was the light, I was where they needed to go.

But again, I was five and I didn’t understand. I only knew what he told me. And then I heard my mother’s voice and I stopped believing him. I wasn’t supposed to be there…
freeling: (serious side)
The Character Physically

1. What is the character's stature and build? Is he overweight? Thin? What is his height and weight?

Carol Anne is average height, about 5’5” and her weight is in line with that, a little heavier in the winter and a little less in the summer.

2. How old is he?

Thirty, almost thirty-one for most purposes in this journal. Occasionally she posts as her five year old self in SWS (playing with the movie canon).

3. Describe his posture. Is it good? Does he carry himself well? Is he crooked? Straight?

Her posture is acceptable; she slouches when tired but otherwise tends to hold herself well.

All grown up... )


freeling: (Default)

November 2008

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