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A N A S T A S I A . W O O D S
"Forgetting is like lighting
a candle. The candle might disappear.
But the wax is always there."
~imhisthoughts (anonymous)
"Forgetting is like lighting
a candle. The candle might disappear.
But the wax is always there."
~imhisthoughts (anonymous)
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Song Silhouette
Anastasia's Outfit here
Location Legacy Emanuel Medical Center
Dialogue coral2
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xxxxxIt was the relentless sound of ringing that caught Anastasia's attention. Sawyer's cell phone. She watched carefully as he retrieved the device from his pocket, and turning his back towards her, put the phone to his ear. Ana leaned over, trying unsuccessfully to listen in on his conversation, but his voice was hushed as if he didn't want Ana to overhear. Although, it was obvious the conversation was about her. It made sense that the conversation would be about the wife that had unexpectedly woke up from her comatose long enough to have forgotten half of her life, possibly the most important part. However, Anastasia was relieved that the story hadn't made the front-page headlines because it would be an article locals would be buzzing about. Perhaps she was exaggerating.
xxxxxAnastasia was lost in thought that she hadn't notice Sawyer return into the room. "Sorry, about that," he said simultaneously slipping his cell back into his pocket, "my mom was worried about you. Not that you remember her, but you get the point..."
xxxxxThe last of the conversation became a series of pointless rambling. Anastasia wondered whether her presence was making Sawyer more tense than he should be. She had barely said two sentences to him and already he was acting as if he was somehow intimidated by her. Had it been like this before? Sawyer gaining sweaty palms at the sight of his lovely wife? Still, Ana was dubious to take on her title as a wife whether the story they revealed was true, Anastasia didn't believe it. She didn't want to believe it. Her heart wasn't experiencing any magnetic pulls toward the man that was now staring at her, the same man that was supposedly her husband, a time in her life, as it did before. It was misleading to think that she would fall into his arms after he told them of their marriage because whatever feeling she ever felt for Sawyer were long gone and unlikely to return.
xxxxx"...If you decide to come with me," Sawyer's voice grabbed her attention, bringing her back to reality, "then we can pick up some fried foods and maybe a bottle of your favorite wine."
xxxxxFried foods? Wine? How this man knew Anastasia enjoyed the combination of greasy edibles complimenting a glass of Muscato was a bit odd. Not to mention he was bribing her with her favorite eats if she made the decision to follow him.
xxxxx"You remember being eighteen which means you don't remember drinking. I'm making a fool of myself aren't I?" he added.
xxxxxAnastasia bit back a stifled laugh. She wanted to tell him that she had been drinking Pinot Noirs since she was fifteen as a New Years' tradition, but she was interrupted amidst her sentence as Dr. Antonini came striding into the room with a set of papers.
xxxxx"I just need you both to sign these release forms before I let you go." he informed, handing the documents to Anastasia. She flipped through the pamphlet while initialing her name on each line marked patient before giving them to Sawyer who gave her a set of clothes and a pair of white slip-on Vans in return. She looked down at the folded stack, smoothing the fabrics with a hand. Sawyer noticed her bewilderment. "Those are yours," he mentioned, "I thought you would like to get out of those 'hand-me-downs' someday. I'll finish up here while you change, then we can leave."
xxxxxAnastasia didn't know what to say other than a, "thank you", which Sawyer gave her a lopsided grin in response before going back to signaturing the prompts.
xxxxxThe nearest bathroom was outside her room on a left, five doors down at the end of the corridor. She walked in, pleased to notice that all the stalls were unoccupied. She didn't have the energy nor the patience to make small talk with anyone. Her determination was set to get dressed and leave the facility as quickly as possible alongside her, said "husband".
xxxxxAfter putting on the clothes Sawyer had picked out for her she noticed a body mirror near the sinks. She stood in front of it scrutinizing her own reflection. There was a scar along her forehead. She trailed the wound with a finger, quickly pulling her hand back as it stung a bit. Anastasia wondered how many marks she had around her body after noticing another on the side of her chin. Anastasia isn't exceedingly beautiful. She doesn't have the physique fit to be a runway model. She is just Anastasia. At a 5'2'' height, she is considered short amongst her peers who towered over her at taunting length. Her skin, absent of a tan she desperately needed from her cheeks which grew a tint of red at almost any occasion. She was marked with many imperfections that notified her daily of her flaws. There's a birthmark rested on the small of her back, another on her ankle, and a scar down her stomach from a time ago. Now there were additional scars surrounding her body, and bruises on her legs, the only reminder that let Anastasia know that the accident was real, that now she was awake and living a life as a stranger to her own existence.
xxxxxHer outfit did the best could to cover the damage. Besides, the bastard had some sense of style she had to admit. She balled up the gown in her hand before leaving the restroom, and making her way back into the room where Sawyer was waiting for her.
xxxxxAnastasia was lost in thought that she hadn't notice Sawyer return into the room. "Sorry, about that," he said simultaneously slipping his cell back into his pocket, "my mom was worried about you. Not that you remember her, but you get the point..."
xxxxxThe last of the conversation became a series of pointless rambling. Anastasia wondered whether her presence was making Sawyer more tense than he should be. She had barely said two sentences to him and already he was acting as if he was somehow intimidated by her. Had it been like this before? Sawyer gaining sweaty palms at the sight of his lovely wife? Still, Ana was dubious to take on her title as a wife whether the story they revealed was true, Anastasia didn't believe it. She didn't want to believe it. Her heart wasn't experiencing any magnetic pulls toward the man that was now staring at her, the same man that was supposedly her husband, a time in her life, as it did before. It was misleading to think that she would fall into his arms after he told them of their marriage because whatever feeling she ever felt for Sawyer were long gone and unlikely to return.
xxxxx"...If you decide to come with me," Sawyer's voice grabbed her attention, bringing her back to reality, "then we can pick up some fried foods and maybe a bottle of your favorite wine."
xxxxxFried foods? Wine? How this man knew Anastasia enjoyed the combination of greasy edibles complimenting a glass of Muscato was a bit odd. Not to mention he was bribing her with her favorite eats if she made the decision to follow him.
xxxxx"You remember being eighteen which means you don't remember drinking. I'm making a fool of myself aren't I?" he added.
xxxxxAnastasia bit back a stifled laugh. She wanted to tell him that she had been drinking Pinot Noirs since she was fifteen as a New Years' tradition, but she was interrupted amidst her sentence as Dr. Antonini came striding into the room with a set of papers.
xxxxx"I just need you both to sign these release forms before I let you go." he informed, handing the documents to Anastasia. She flipped through the pamphlet while initialing her name on each line marked patient before giving them to Sawyer who gave her a set of clothes and a pair of white slip-on Vans in return. She looked down at the folded stack, smoothing the fabrics with a hand. Sawyer noticed her bewilderment. "Those are yours," he mentioned, "I thought you would like to get out of those 'hand-me-downs' someday. I'll finish up here while you change, then we can leave."
xxxxxAnastasia didn't know what to say other than a, "thank you", which Sawyer gave her a lopsided grin in response before going back to signaturing the prompts.
xxxxxThe nearest bathroom was outside her room on a left, five doors down at the end of the corridor. She walked in, pleased to notice that all the stalls were unoccupied. She didn't have the energy nor the patience to make small talk with anyone. Her determination was set to get dressed and leave the facility as quickly as possible alongside her, said "husband".
xxxxxAfter putting on the clothes Sawyer had picked out for her she noticed a body mirror near the sinks. She stood in front of it scrutinizing her own reflection. There was a scar along her forehead. She trailed the wound with a finger, quickly pulling her hand back as it stung a bit. Anastasia wondered how many marks she had around her body after noticing another on the side of her chin. Anastasia isn't exceedingly beautiful. She doesn't have the physique fit to be a runway model. She is just Anastasia. At a 5'2'' height, she is considered short amongst her peers who towered over her at taunting length. Her skin, absent of a tan she desperately needed from her cheeks which grew a tint of red at almost any occasion. She was marked with many imperfections that notified her daily of her flaws. There's a birthmark rested on the small of her back, another on her ankle, and a scar down her stomach from a time ago. Now there were additional scars surrounding her body, and bruises on her legs, the only reminder that let Anastasia know that the accident was real, that now she was awake and living a life as a stranger to her own existence.
xxxxxHer outfit did the best could to cover the damage. Besides, the bastard had some sense of style she had to admit. She balled up the gown in her hand before leaving the restroom, and making her way back into the room where Sawyer was waiting for her.