#fieryinnocence

Anna Belle: [“Ms. Reed.” I felt a nudge against my arm and my eyes tore from their fixation. /Him/. The sun had been shining for days now, summer  finally showing its face in Georgia, and I have to admit that I couldn’t have been happier. 

“Time for your medicine, Ms. Reed.” 

The orderly was kind. New, naïve, but kind. His hazel eyes moved between me and the window through which I’d been completely lost in. 

Of course, just as all other nurses, doctors and orderlies alike, he was warned of my… “condition.” I guess being labeled as a manic schizophrenic was somewhat new to some of these doctors. 

A small laugh parted my lips and I reached out to take the cup from him. Yes, he definitely was new. The moment I grabbed the cup, he turned his back and the tiny pill was rolled away to a center drain grate. 

At first, with the “hallucinations,” I was simply considered a manic depressive with extreme bipolar tendencies. But as I began to, in my doctor’s words, create an elaborate alternate life and dream up such people as Him, I was slipped into the schizo column. 

And that’s where I’ve stayed. I refuse to give up on my truths. No matter how hard they try to drug me. 

He was and is real. I know it. I feel it. And I will find a way to prove that. 

Anna Belle: Our Father, who art in Heaven... 

[The prayer fell from my lips as fluidly as always. My eyes fixed to the crucifix hanging on the wall opposite of the bed. It's not mine, so I don't call it such. It's the bed, the room, the anything. 

None of it mine. My thumb brushed a circle over the knuckle of my index finger, just as it would a Rosary. I'm not allowed one, though, so I have to pretend. 

Seems I've been deemed untrustworthy with such items. Supposed one could attempt to kill themselves with one. 

Not that I would. I couldn't do that. Not with a necklace as sacred as a Rosary. My blonde, dingier than normal, hair fell to cover my face, eyes welling with tears. 

It is nighttime I fear most. Without light, there is no him. Without him, there is no me. Pushing myself to my feet, I stood upright, eyes moving from the crucifix to the window. 

The moon was barely full, but was hidden by clouds. I tried looking at my reflection, hoping for a glance, a peek. Anything. But all I got was darkness shadowed by more darkness. 

It was late, so I opted to attempt to sleep. The daily pill I'm meant to take scratched against the metal frame of the bed. I'll have to remember it in the morning. Hide it up my sleeve and when I wash my face, let it slip down the drain. The pills take him away, so I don't take them. 

My hands come to rest on my stomach, eyes trained to the ceiling. Sundays are easy. Church, no matter the religion, the luncheon and then therapy. I made a vow last week to not get angry during this Sunday's session. 

I hope I can keep it. If not, I could lose everything I worked for. The bible says that God will answer the desire of your heart, if you do as you should and stay steadfast on him and his path. 

And the desire of mine is too great to lose over anger. But no one believes me, I know it. 

Anna Belle: [Who knew that the beach could be so peaceful? I've tried everything to rid my mind of the images of a world in a different time and place. I drank, no matter how much or little, I still did it. 

I stayed at my desk and wrote until words were beyond thought and I even considered signing up for a dating site or going on blind dates - all to rid myself of the dark-haired man who haunted my dreams in the best of ways. 

The wind picked up, carrying the soft rhythm of guitar with it, and I had nothing left within me. All thoughts seemed to drift away with the notes. 

I'd opted I'm going to the beach because I hadn't gone in a while and because it's the place anyone would want to leave their memories, tucked neatly in bottles that bob with the tide, left to be found by someone who would probably never understand. 

Six bottles, each containing the faintest of memories in them, sat before me. I'd gone to a friend who is beyond skilled in drawing and got them to create an image of Him.The man who filled every dream and vision. The similarities are dumbfounding. 

I was lost in the glint of the deep colored eyes, eyes that often fade to black in my dreams. The image was hidden inside a red bottle; a color I had come to associate with Him. Passion, love, lust, anger...all of it. It was him. Stories of him, of us were in the other bottles. My eyes closed and I took what felt to be a final breath. 

If this man were real beyond my mind, where was he? I'd willingly give him all of me. A silent curse slipped past my lips and I bent to pluck a bottle from the sand, popping the cork into it. 

Even if he were here, my words would surely push him away. Me and my big mouth. I'd lost much of who I was since my… whatever doctors say happened. 

The bottle fell from my fingertips and slowly began to be pulled away from me in the tide of the ocean. And with each inch of distance growing between us, my heart clenched so tightly, I lost my breath. 

Anxiety filled my chest and I knew I'd lose it. One bottle down, just a few to go...but I couldn't. I couldn't let go. Not just yet. 

Because this man, a man who was no more than a memory to me, meant too much to just walk away from. 

I gathered the bottles and took them back to my hotel room, planning to try again tomorrow. Tomorrow's another day, right? 

3/20/2013 8:21pm Anna Belle: [The visions... thoughts... whatever I was having of /him/ is gone. I've had nearly two weeks of quiet, so my idea of needing to possibly seek professional help sort of went out the window. 

Mischa has been helping me... cope. Or whatever it is I'm doing. The drink sitting on the bar in front of me isn't doing anything that I'd like it to; part of me wanting to forget whatever these "fake" memories are, the other part wanting to remember them even clearer. 

3/4/2013 7:42pm Anne Belle: [Rolling over onto my back, I blew the random strands of hair that covered my face from it. This is where I've been finding myself lately. Stuck in my bed, trying to process dreams from reality. 

It hasn't seemed to work so far. With a deep breath, I push myself upright and glance around the room. Mischa, my new kitten, is curled up on the lower corner of the bed. She's nothing like the pets I had in my... dreams? Were they real? 

My eyes fall shut and, almost as if out of habit, my hand raises and fingertips trace the hidden mark. A mark that made me his, made him mine. 

My heart almost stops at the thought, the... shaking my head, a little growl slips past, frustrated, confused and... everything! How could I feel this way, love someone who was a dream?!] 

You've lost your mind, Anna! That's how! 

[Reaching over, I grab the small mirror I'd used the night before. This is the ritual I've fallen into. Barely opening my eyes, my fingertips trace the "mark" while I hold the mirror up, looking for something.. anything.. to prove he was or is real. 

1/30/2013 8:41pm Anne Belle: [Waking up had gotten harder to do, each dream having been better than the last. Nearly two months ago, just before the new year, I had dropped to my knees and begged the gods to give me something, anything to work with, so I could create the world I knew that was inside of my head. 

And from the simple bumping into a very handsome man after #Donald fired me, I fell into this dream world, this place that held no understanding to me. 

An old new world. And one with a man who was beyond perfection. A man who loved me. Me. A woman who tripped over her Jimmy Choos and had the tendency to say whatever was on her mind. 

But with him, I was something else, something more seductive and dark. And waking from those dreams, from him and what "we" were, was so difficult. 

When I woke, I could only see his face. Scruff-covered and eyes that would often flash to black. And for some reason, though I knew I should fear him then my heart wouldn't let me. I'd fallen in love with a fictional character, a man that, had I chosen for me, would have fit the mold. 

And though he's fake, I love him. Even the darkness that surrounds him. Taking another deep breath, I sit the cup of warm tea down, my eyes brimming as I close the lid to my Macbook. 

Though it's not me and he's not real, the love for him is and I realize how silly I am for it. 

My phone's alerting me to a text that #Donald sent a few minutes ago, asking me to join him for dinner.  Part of me wants to accept, just because I could use the job, but the other part of me can't leave my story and him. Because truth be told, there will be no one who compares to him. Real or not, no one will live up to the things he's shown me.] #BeautyOffline

Anna Belle: [Whispers, curling in on myself.] I love you.

Darius: -Frowns deeply feeling concerned, my hard body molding around your small, curled frame- I love you, darling.

Anna Belle: No frowning, my love.

Darius: -Buries my nose in your fragrant golden locks, inhaling deeply as I nod minutely- I'll try. Sweet slumber, my darling.

Anna Belle: [Hides my frown in the pillow, nodding.] G'night, Darius.

Darius: -Sighs tiredly, brushing your hair away to press firm lips to the nape of your neck before drifting off-

12/24/2012 Darius: Merry Christmas, darling @FieryInnocence. 

Anna Belle: [Kisses your face.] I love you.

Darius: -Chuckles, taking the kisses as I bestow some of my own- There's my beauty.

Anna Belle: [Smiles softly.] Oh?

Darius: Yes. -Smirks devilishly-

Anna Belle: [Kisses you again.]

Darius: -Growls into the kiss, cupping the nape of your neck- How are you enjoying your holiday?

Anna Belle: [Swallows a whimper, rasping out thickly.] I'm loving it.

Darius: -Growls louder at the sound of your soft whimper, dark eyes gazing down into your twinkly blues- Good, Darling.

Anna Belle: [Sucks my lower lip between my teeth, glancing down.] Missed you..

Darius: -Slides my hand away to tilt your face up- Did you? Well I missed you as well. -Grins down devilishly at you with a wink-

Anna Belle: [Clears my throat, face heating at your gaze.] Yes, Sir.. [Stands on my tiptoes, kissing your cheek.]

Darius: -Chuckles, wrapping strong arms around you, pulling your soft body tight to mine- Sir? -Groans low- Hm...what is my darling up to this evening?

Anna Belle: Hm, nothing. [Smiles.]

Darius: Nothing? -Shakes head- We should remedy this. What would you like to do?

Anna Belle: Um. I don't know. [Laughs.] You always know!

Darius: -Chuckles darkly- Well if you are not too cold we could try some ice skating on the lake or stay warm inside with smores.

Anna Belle: [Closes my eyes at the mention of staying warm, ideas of how swirling through my mind.] We could.

Darius: -The images flood through my mind, your heartbeat and breathing increasing slightly. I lean down to rub my scruffed cheek against the side of your face, husky whispers sounding close to your ear- Mm I see you want to start a fire, love.

Anna Belle: Oh darn it! I've gingerbread cookies to finish! [Smirks to myself, letting another image come to mind, quickly moving to the kitchen.]

Darius: -Whisper groans out a curse, shifting to adjust and clear my throat before darting after you. I reach you, pressing my hard body against your back, my hands on each side of you- You baked cookies?

Anna Belle: [Tries to catch my breath, nodding slowly.] Baking. For the help. It's Christmas. [Closes my eyes, leaning back against you]

Darius: -Rocks into you slowly a rumbling hum in my chest- That's kind of you, darling. How much more do you have to finish? -Slides a hand free from the counter edge, snaking it under your shirt to trace over your warm silky skin-

Anna Belle: [Breath hitches, biting down on my lip.] The gingerbread ones... [reaches down to wrap my fingers around your wrist.]

Darius: -Leans in to press firm lips to the column of your neck allowing your hand to pull mine free.- And you are doing what to them? -Lifts my dark eyes, taking in the icing. I move my hand to dip a finger inside, moving the dallop up to your lips-

Anna Belle: [Moves my eyes up to yours, parting my lips to wrap around your finger, tongue licking over its tip slowly.] Mmm..

Darius: -Lids lower, another groan releasing as I pressed tighter behind you- Fuck. I think the cookies can wait, love. -Swallows thickly, sliding my thick finger free from your warm parted lips- If not they may all go to waste. -Rolls my neck feeling my shoulders and body tightening-

Anna Belle: [Nods, replying breathlessly.] They can wait..

Darius: -Whirls you around, one palm grazing over the underside of your thigh to hook onto my hip- Are you ready for bed?

Anna Belle: I am now. [Kisses your neck, wrapping around you.]