A Sudden Outbreak » Places

         

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Feeling; distressed, depressed, exhausted

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"Here,"
Morgan felt something warm around her shoulders and looked up at the man she saved with teary eyes. She quickly wiped them away while he introduced himself as Weston. Though she didn't know the guy he didn't look like he was the type to do anything unless provoked so she relaxed her shoulders and flashed him a small but pained smile but before she could introduce herself the smaller woman she saved introduced herself. "Bullet." she spoke and Morgan shifted her gaze from Weston to Bullet, locking eyes with her.
"And thanks, I guess...for letting me tag along."

Morgan found her voice to have disappeared for a second and just nodded like a child. She cleared her throat. "I'm Morgan . . . and your welcome." Honestly Morgan didn't exactly know what to say. She wasn't even thinking when she saved them but she was glad she did. She just didn't know how to get that part to come out in an audible sentence. Her eyes shifted between Nessa and Henry. "That's Vanessa and over there is Henry." she added before searching her pockets for her smokes. Once she found the crinkled box Morgan looked inside to only see 3 cigarettes left. Sighing, her mildly shaking hands reached down and her slender fingers pulled out a cancer stick.

She stood up and took the blanket off her shoulders handing it to Bullet. "I'm going to go have a smoke upstairs . . ." without another word she tucked the rest of her smokes back into her pocket and took up the steps two at a time. This was seriously messed up and she was tired of trying to wrap her head around things. She needed an escape, an outlet for her emotions, something to make her forget before she lost it but all she had were smokes, I mean they did work, calmed her a bit but still couldn't stop her from remembering.

Morgan had swiped the flashlight from Henry before going up the steps and she flicked it on wandering through the dark halls of the decrepit house. Exploring was going to take more than her nerve so she lit up her cigarette and inhaled deeply. Her flashlight quickly spun around to a noise that made her jump but it was just a rat. "Fucking Christ." she cursed under her breath before letting out a puff of smoke. Her heart racing, dancing around in her chest cavity and the adrenaline of fear had her on the edge but she did have to admit. Somewhere deep down this fear was . . . intoxicating, a twisted enjoyable feeling that she loved and feared. All the doors down the hall were closed which were only about 3 but the door all the way down the hall, probably the master bedroom was wide open and pitch black.

Taking another long drag of her caner stick Morgan trudge forward and quietly entered the room only to see a normal, old, dirty and moldy abandoned room. Everything was basked in a pale light and that's when Morgan noticed that the bedroom window was only half boarded up. How could something like that happen? The hole that was left honestly didn't look like someone could fit through but it explained the pale glow in the room, it was the moon. The moon could be seen directly from the window. Looking around the room some more Morgan found no sign of someone being here and if they did they were long gone. She grabbed the old looking wooden chair that sat next to the bed and pulled it over by the window. She sat down and leaned her arms against the windowsill and blew her smoke outside, watching it lift into the air and become nothing.

That's when her tears began to flow and couldn't stop. Sadness and anger both bubbled into one as she leaned back in the chair and closed her eyes, breathing in the crisp outside air. Morgan brung up her arm and laid her forearm across her eyes.