Gabriella Rocha
So the rose broke off as a rose should do. The thorns didn’t turn into tentacles that drew her towards a maw that manifested in the bushes and they didn’t suddenly grow, spiking through her fingertips like mini swords. Conclusion? She still didn’t think it was a dream.
Just some sort of fucked up reality.
God, I need a drink…. She mused as she flicked off all of the thorns on the perfect bloom, shortening the stem so she could tuck it behind her right ear and after her new accessory was in place she began digging through her purse for something, still oblivious to those that stood around the front yard. They had lapsed into silence anyway so perhaps they had realized that shit was going crazy too.
Her hand clasped around a thin silver flask and the top came off easily enough, allowing her to put the spout to her painted lips and take three long draws from its contents. The taste of Everclear always made her wince and she plugged the liquor back up, stowing it for when she needed another shot of liquid courage. Her eyes were clear today and their normal hazel had changed to a near-emerald color. They shifted from person to person, settling on them once again as she tried to figure out what they were doing here with her in this strange place.
Not one for beating around the bush, she stepped up between the three of them, forcing their attention to her for a moment as her eyes then settled upon the lone figure still lying upon the snowy ground. “I’m Gabriella. Gabi. I don’t know what the fuck we’re doing here but I am going to try to get warm.” Jabbing a finger at the manor that loomed before them she wasted no time for return introductions but still she paused, her gaze continually falling back to the blond youth nestled in the snow. God, how she hated being left behind. It happened to her a few times. Partied too hard, took a few too many pills and suddenly she was comatose outside and she ended up waking a few hours later nearly frostbitten or dehydrated depending on the weather.
She sighed forcibly, gathering what she assumed was the young man’s carpet bag and hefting it over her shoulder before she leaned over, curling a small hand around his ankle. No one else was moving him, right? And it wasn’t like she could lift anything much less a person, no matter how small they were.
“Let’s go, blondie…” She muttered as she moved, walking up the trio of stairs that led to the small front porch. The poor youth suffered from her poor planning with his head bumping soundly against every stair on her ascent but hey… At least she was trying to help, right?
Her free hand went to the door, rapping thrice and she waited a full minute for a reply before trying the doorknob, giving it a quick twist as she called out, “Hello?! Is anyone home?”