[ She doesn't see anyone when she walks in. The weather from outside has her chilled to the bone, her lip quivering while eyes scan the shelves in front of her, covered in old electronics she's pretty sure she hasn't seen since she was a kid. But her care for that is little, her neck turns when she hears her own name, a shout that sounds more like it's in her own head than reality. And while it's a silly idea to continue thinking everything she's experiencing is a delusion, she becomes convinced of it when she sees the person shouting her name.
It really is a dream. The second she sees her, still as perfect, still as everything Lydia really loved once, her face twists in a difficult attempt to hold back tears. ]
No, don't do that. Don't β [ The screaming in her head. The faint memory of blood. The hospital. The beeping. And to be brought to this, something so false and torturous. Even if Allison grabbing at her feels as solid and real as the prickling sensations of cold on her skin, she knows it isn't real.
Her head shakes frantically. ] I'm not here. I'm in my head. I'm β my head. [ She's too weak to fight the false Allison away but she manages to bring up her own hands in front of her. Count the fingers. Count them. You have extra fingers in dreams. So she counts.
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It really is a dream. The second she sees her, still as perfect, still as everything Lydia really loved once, her face twists in a difficult attempt to hold back tears. ]
No, don't do that. Don't β [ The screaming in her head. The faint memory of blood. The hospital. The beeping. And to be brought to this, something so false and torturous. Even if Allison grabbing at her feels as solid and real as the prickling sensations of cold on her skin, she knows it isn't real.
Her head shakes frantically. ] I'm not here. I'm in my head. I'm β my head. [ She's too weak to fight the false Allison away but she manages to bring up her own hands in front of her. Count the fingers. Count them. You have extra fingers in dreams. So she counts.
Ten fingers. ]