#for a movie that had a ton of positive buzz and whose average on the site of discourse is literally a positive score.

[marklikely]

the grand irony of it all is that i was fully about to give saltburn a second chance but the defense squad did such a bad job selling it that now im transitioning to a full time hater

[laughterofthewildthings]

For This Way The Wind Blows- Chapter 2: Something Wicked This Way Comes

Author: Laughterofthewildthings 

Fandom: Chilling adventures of Sabrina 

Summary:  She had always thought of herself as open-minded until reincarnation fucked up. Now , she is going to make sure her precious people get the life they have always deserved, come hell or high water…maybe not hell. After all, they dont seem very forgiving. Oc/self insert

 I became aware slowly and then all at once, like the slow stretching of an elastic band and the sudden rebounding. The curse of consciousness pounded against the flexible walls of my mind as memories flooded through me like a river whose dam had just been broken, each particle of water rushing forward, greedy with the taste of freedom and ravenous with the focus of escape.

There was no rhyme or reason to the order at which they pillaged my mind; sad and angry twined together, leaving me reeling with grief and feelings of being wronged which were soothed by the sound of my mother's voice along with the deep baritone of my father's laugh. I had gone madmadmadmad, the din was never-ending, the assault unrelenting as I tried to hold on to some semblance of sanity in the cacophony of chaos.

Until silence…sudden and swift appeared and like that all of it was gone. The torture which seemed to last for hoursdaysmonths that made me feel as if I had been touched by the spirit of Maniae, as if the Greek Goddess of insanity had been searching for a bird's nest and had cracked my skull open and found it suitable as her perch, had vanished. In its place left uncertainty as I feared its return, itwillcomebackbackbackback, their taste bitter and salty as I held my breath waiting for what I assumed to be my divine punishment. Was it because I had stolen key chains when I was three? Or the act of breaking my sister's trophy and framing the cat? These acts had seemed small, things that could have easily been forgiven but it appeared that I had been mistaken.

But silence reigned and nothing happened…..

It was then I realized that I could feel nothing. No pain from my injuries, no cold from the metal or the blood loss nor could I feel the dampness of the rain drops. There was nothingness and that frightened me the most, paranoia choked me and fear paralyzed me further as I tried fruitlessly to move. I struggled to regain my calm as I attempted to employ any of the techniques learned from endless movie nights, "wiggle your big toe." I repeated in an endless loop making sure to keep my mind calm and clear. I didn't falter as I knew that it had taken Kiddo a shit ton of time even if I had a greater disadvantage of not being able to see my toe and therefore visualize it moving.

The screeching of my mind slamming to a halt echoed as I realized with anxiety that I couldn't see my toe…I couldn't see anything. What the fuck. I couldn't see shit.

"Okay, okay. We are okay. Take a deep breath and focus." I told myself as I repeated the same sentence I used whenever I would have anxiety attacks from the endless assignments and pop quizzes that came with the white lab coat.

"Maybe my eyes are closed." The next thought earned a snort or would have if I could produce the air necessary to make that sound. I had no lungs or at least, I couldn't feel myself breathing. This probably worked in my favor as I would have screamed bloody murder if possible. I had hit the conclusion that I had gone bat shit. Absolutely, undeniably fucking fucked in the head because there was no way I would be capable of conscious thought if I had no lungs because no lungs means no air which means no oxygen and then boom no brain.

Images of a crumpled car and red stained leather punctuated with bursts of fearagonypain and soothed by the gentle creaking of ancient oaks and eventual darkness flooded my mind.

I was dead. I had died. Didn't I?

Oh my fucking Jiminy Cricket. Is this hell? Am I in hell? I felt the urge to pull out my hair and sob. I ended up in hell. I owed my sister money, she always said I would end up here.

But this makes no sense. I mean it's not as if I was Mother Teresa but I wasn't a horrible person. I was just average….I didn't think I deserved hell, is there a complaint box or somebody I could talk to because I had been fucking wronged. Anger rolled inside of my stomach as I thought back to all the situations where I had been the bigger person and walked away, to the people I had forgiven even when their actions were unforgivable, all the attempts I made to make sure I was a good person, someone worthy of love. All of these compromises that were for fucking nothing.

The anger fizzled quickly like a matchstick dropped into the cold ocean as depression rose up and swallowed me whole. I began to sink into its cloying depths as I stewed in the knowledge that I had died, I had left everyone behind. I would never see them again. My mother. My father. My sister. My boyfriend. They were all gone and it was my fault. I had been selfish and careless and my actions had caused my needless death and their resulting grief.

The next wave of agony crashed over me as I put up no fight to the unrelenting storm of sorrow. My mind was slowly shattering. Each new discovery deliberately stripping me away until I had barely any coherent thoughts left. I was left floating, anchor-less, in memories and sounds of a time I would never get back, people I would never get to seeholdtouchlove again. I was so far gone that I had barely missed a small thump. I ignored it initially believing it to be another punishment of my cursed, vindictive mind but….there it was again. Faint but there.

My mind froze…each thought stilled in the pathway of being processed as I strained to pinpoint the sound…desperate for a life vest, something to pull me out from the darkness. Silence lingered. I had slowly started to lose hope and then it happened. Thump. I grasped onto it with greedy fingers and let it pull me from the rotting recesses of my mind.

I had never been so addicted to a sound before in my life, never been so grateful for a dull thud. It was this thump that kept me from delving further into insanity. I clung to it like a starving man. Had this sound always been here? In my personal purgatory? Had I ignored it in my anguish?

I didn't have an answer as sweet relief crested and settled as I realized there was something else here and although it could have been bad, I would have been grateful for a true death at this point. A sweet reprieve from the torture of cognizance and knowledge.

As if I had been heard by some forgiving deity…the buzzing of my brain started to slow and my thoughts started to become sluggish. Logically, I became aware that I was experiencing a crash brought on by a high stress situation and the following calm of not being alone but emotionally and mentally, I was tired so I eagerly coaxed the tiredness to take me. Hoping against all odds that if I awakened once more it would be in a sterile, white hospital room. Not noticing in my lethargy, how the thump had become sluggish as well. 

Gotfuckingdamnit. I had awakened in the same blackness, the same void with only an intermittent thump as company. Beggars can't be choosers, I supposed. The thump seemed closer now without my panic to block and distort it, I noted absentmindedly.

I would come to value the sound as my days continued and I developed a routine, which entailed sleep, wake and listen to the thump. Until, in the endless loop of blackness, I began to notice the tickling of fluid running along my body and the warmth that gradually spread to every inch, I breathed an unheard sigh of relief and allowed myself to relax and revel in this evidence of life as I sent thanks to every God I knew. Eventually, I began to be able to move…twist and turn and kick around me. Every once in a while I would come into contact with a mushy wall and so I battered it…demanding my release but it remained firm.

It was later as I was listening to the thump after a brief nap, which had become increasingly frequent, when I heard a low humming resonating around me. It wasn't particularly good, no, it was pitchy and lacked rhythm to be considered anything more than unrelated notes but it was there. It was with me and I was hungry for it, positively starved, so I lived for the moments when it would accompany me and wrap me in its presence.

Time moved slowly in the darkness, the only company being my thoughts. I had long ago determined that I was in a coma. It was obvious that I was trapped in the obscurity of my mind, that I had gotten lucky and been found by some Good Samaritan and I would later awaken to the concerned faces of my family. The issue then arose "How do I wake up?" Left without an answer, I settled to wait until I could determine more of my surroundings.

I had become complacent in my prison thus the sudden constriction of my surroundings startled me awake from my rest and left me reeling in confusion and panic…wondering if I had further angered the entity confining me. I was squashed and squeezed for what felt like hours, just when I began to think it was a continuation of my punishment, I was suddenly thrown into the coldwhiteloud.

I was disorientated. There was so much going on as I felt weightlessness, my thoughts were disordered as I wondered if I was being moved. Was I being carried? Had I been in a coma? Why couldn't I speak? Why couldn't I breathe? Oh my god, I was going to diediedie.

My thoughts were shattered by a sharp pain and my body responded in turn to the sudden sensation after so long of sensory deprivation. I opened my mouth and screamed.

A wail filled my ears. What the fuck? Is there a baby here? Why the fuck would a parent have a baby in the coma unit? I felt breeze waft over me and a sudden warmth blanket me. "Hands." My mind whispered but I rebelled against the thought. NO fucking way. I refuse. I deny.

I struggled to open my heavy eyelids and eventually they cracked open out of sheer force of will but yielded to me nothing as everything was blurry and unclear. Except I could barely make out a giant blurry shape. I freaked the fuck out and screamed in response. I studiously ignored the voice that told me that the wailing I heard was of my own making.

The fucking giant shushed me and the eventual exhaustion quieted my sobs as I listened to her voice….the same fucking voice that had been humming ohnonono, fucking dare to tell me she loved me and had been so excited to meet me.

She then proceeded to call me Daphne.

It was at this point all became undeniable as the sickening feeling of the realization that I had been reborn spread through my limbs. The only thing I knew following this revelation was comforting blackness and the sounds of pandemonium and panic that faded away.