#anella

@wearingxspots

Anita had left her meeting with Mr. Rider and did not waste any time. She swept back into her makeshift home, up the stairs and into the room that had been hers for nearly a year. She did not pause because if she paused, she would cry. She would not cry because if she did, she would not stop. She’d find herself on the floor, clutching at her chest, wishing for her father and her mother-- and neither of these wishes could come true.

Anita Dearly had herself and herself only. She had but one way forward, after hearing of Flynn’s confession. She could not stand by idly and live in the house of a woman so cruel. She would not do her aunt’s laundry nor carry out her orders or watch the shop or organize her agenda-- 

Anita Dearly was not and would never be a De Vil. Not anymore. 

She packed her suitcases, every last item of her clothing and every book, so both bags were as heavy as stones. She stuffed her jewelry into her purse and fit her journals in too. She’d have to leave some things behind but maybe she’d come back-- maybe she could ask Roger and Perdy and-- maybe Paul, if Roger asked-- to come help her. 

Then she dragged the suitcases down the staircase. They clumped with every step. She dragged them out onto the front steps. And then, with her purse on her shoulder, she went down the long corridor to her aunt’s office and opened it without warning. 

She stared her aunt in the face, taking a deep breath through her nostrils. 

@cinderellaashbourne

Swynlake was getting very tiring with all of these out of control events. Then of course, because apparently it didn’t seem to look as if they have had enough for a life-time, some fire-breathing dog beasts wanted to run wild in town. It was getting bloody ridiculous. 

However, not much of that was what was paramount in the blonde’s mind at the moment, although trust me after having seen one of those hounds she had been a bit off edge, in any case her shirt was what was taking her focal attention. Throughout the whole craziness of the day Anastasia had managed to get a tear on her favorite shirt because of course, demonic looking dogs would pop up when she happened to be wearing a shirt she absolutely adored. 

It was why she was presently found in her room the next day, holding her teared shirt and just....staring at it. Okay, so the scene might have appeared a slight bit dramatic, even Ana was aware of that but there was a reason for the staring aside for it having been her favorite shirt.

Her anxiety was holding her in place.

It had been a lot. The dogs, college applications, waiting on acceptance letters, trying to figure out what in the bloody hell she was going to do for the rest of her life, making sure all of your grades were outstanding, the increase of extra-curricular activities, worrying about her twin sister’s syphilis, and then making sure every single thing she did would be worthy of her mother?!

The anxiety was crawling under her skin threatening to burst out into a full fledge attack. Anastasia could feel it and to prevent it from coming forth she quickly snapped out if and it was how she found herself currently entering Rags and Bags with her adored shirt in hand.