#you've been waiting on this for foreeeever omg girl im sorry it took me so long

[imogenmastrano]

drowning | backdated

@vincentnygaard

There were pros and cons to not making meaningful relationships. A major con? No one for Imogen to go to when she needed someone. Of course, Imogen had people she could go to when she needed to rant, or when she needed to escape. Making drinking buddies or ranting buddies was easy, because it was easy to talk about the things that pissed her off. Talking about her sister’s funeral and how she felt about it all? Not so easy. She had no friends; not really. Out of everyone in town, there were three people Imogen felt comfortable opening up to. One included her sister, who was grieving and who she knew she couldn’t talk to. With Lily gone, Imogen needed to be the strong one, so she couldn’t go to her. Another was her ex best friend who she cut out of her life with no explanation, who probably never wanted to talk to her again; so she was out. The last option was the girl she killed her sister to save. Definitely not someone the witch wanted to see right now, let alone talk about the incident with. So, she was left with nobody.

The funeral had left Imogen in a state of suspension. Since watching her sister’s body lower into the ground, the witch had partially checked out. She was stuck in a state of being present but absent, feeling more like she was watching herself do the actions rather than experiencing them as she did them. She was floating, suspended up, and she hated it. Being around Kitty grounded her a bit, but not entirely. Kitty was a temporary anchor, tying her down and keeping her from floating back up when she was in her presence. She needed more than that. Or so she thought. In the middle of the flight back to Hollow Grove, it was like everything just came crashing down on her. The reality of it all sunk in. Not just that her sister was dead, but how she died, how she looked, Kitty’s expressions during it all. Everything that happened came rushing back to her in vivid detail, and it started to suffocate her. But she couldn’t deal with any of that, not with her sister right beside her, needing her to be her strong. So she held it in. She dwelled on it. Let it take over her mind for the remainder of their flight, and the following car ride from Boston to Hollow Grove. 

Despite the fact that it was early morning, or maybe late night — their flight was a short, late one, and she was too busy drowning to check the time — Imogen couldn’t bring herself to sleep when she returned to her apartment. Her mind just wouldn’t stop. She kept seeing Lily’s body, impaled and partially crushed. She kept seeing Kitty crying, kept hearing Kitty’s desperate pleas to leave, kept seeing her sister’s torn and bloody old-fashioned red Angelica costume, kept seeing her own shaky hands fail to lift the boulder trapping her. And during the rare moments when she could push those terrifying thoughts away, her mind kept her up by replaying the events leading up to their gruesome discovery. Agreeing to help search for Cat. Searching the bash for her. Finding her in that god-forsaken church, and making the awful, terrible, thoughtless decision to save her ass by tearing the ground beneath them in two, ultimately saving her life and damning her sister’s. During these moments, she thinks back to every single time she could have prevented herself from doing what she did. She analyzed every decision that led her to where she was that night. There were so many times she could of done just one thing different that could have prevented it all, and she didn’t, and the realization was crushing her. 

Imogen wasn’t big on opening up to others, but she knew if she didn’t talk about it soon, the guilt of it all would kill her. Somehow, someway, she’d truly drown under it all if she couldn’t find some way to get some air. With no one to go to, the witch decided to let her feet lead her. Despite the hour, and the fact that she had nothing but a light jacket to fend herself from the November weather, Imogen left her apartment immediately after settling her sister in to walk through town. One way or another, she found herself in front of a familiar door, though she’s not sure how long it took her to get there, as the town’s scenery did nothing to faze the hold that night had taken of her mind, and left her walking blindly through the streets. Swallowing, Imogen slowly — barely — knocked on the door. When the door somewhat surprisingly opened, the witch kept her eyes downcast for a minute, remaining silent before sluggishly lifting her gaze to meet his briefly, before they dropped. She wanted to be smart, make a play on the words of their last conversation, bring some form of humor here. But she couldn’t even bring herself to remember anything before or after the Halloween Bash at the moment, so she didn’t bother. Even if she did, she doubted she could have really said the words in the playful way they deserved. She’s been drowning for far too long now to be in any other state that than the passive, zombie-like one she’s been left in after the hours of dwelling.  “I’m cold.” Is what ended up coming out thickly, after opening and closing her mouth once already due to a failed attempt to say anything about what she was going through. “Can I come in?”