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Post by Aimee Kensington on Aug 22, 2006 8:53:37 GMT -5
There was a time when she’d been young and free. When her life didn’t entirely evolve around her job, when it didn’t suck her dry and leave her exhausted at the end of each dismal day. There was a time before affairs, before distance and lying and cheating, where her mother was together and her family like stiches in a scarf. There was a time when Carrie and Aimee were inseparable, as thick as thieves were. They could light the room with their laughter, their smiles. In each other they saw a whole, a better person who in turn can complete them and make them something worthy. When they were together the world stopped spinning, it made sense, it balanced. It was Carrie that had taught Aimee to loosen up, to be free. It was Aimee who kept the blonde under control, down to earth, sane. They’d been through so much, so many memories danced in their wake, a shared smile, a coffee, a movie night, men. There was a time when secrets were something from strangers, they told each other everything and kept it within the circle of two minds, two souls. There was a time Aimee forgot where she ended and Carrie began.
In the old days, a time marked as ‘before Sean, the lying, the cheating and the complete and utter betrayal of everyone she loved and stood for’, that Aimee and Carrie were the life and soul of The Bar. They created it, made it famous, made it the place to be. They would dance, do shots and accept drinks from complete strangers. On occasions they’d return home separately, with a worthy selected man wrapped around their bodies but most of the time they’d leave together, calling a cab or accepting a lift from Ben, Darcy or another work colleague. Those were the days of freedom, passion, determination, lust, grinding hips and head spins. Those were the days of regret and tears the next morning. But those were the days when they’d been close and regardless of the tears, Aimee would never betray those memories, never wish them away. In fact quite the opposite, on too many occasions she found herself willing things to go back to before. You never truly knew what you had until it was gone.
“You’re on.”
A smile spread feverishly across her face, lighting her eyes and lifting her spirits. Tonight was her opportunity to go back.
Just as the elevator doors began to close there was a hand, a body and then a smile. Darcy Peters, the Healer-in-Charge of her floor, a close friend, a flatmate and the first of two men to be lusting after her best friend. Men were so obvious sometimes. Darcy was a good guy, a deserving guy, regardless of his tendency to leave the toilet seat up. But that was the problem, so was Ben. Benjamin Jones, her other flatmate, friend, the Healer-in-Charge on Carrie’s floor and the other man seeking Carrie’s affections. The problem truly came to the boy’s relationship. They were best friends and had been since forever. And best friends, didn’t choose girls over their guys. Best friends stuck by their mates. Or at least while the fighting stayed clean.
At the idea of a group challenge Aimee’s smile broadened and she leant back allowing Darcy to push the button for their floor.
“Men are weak beings. Never can keep up.”
Tonight was going to be fun, a break. Something to clear her head and relax her mind. It was something she needed, just for her world to stop spinning for a few moments, just to be close to the people she loved without the drama that plagued her at work that taunted her constantly. Just for one night she needed to forget that she was a liar and the woman tearing apart a marriage. She needed to hang around Carrie long enough for the disease they called happiness to rub off onto her. She just needed to be Aimee for a while. The old one.
And besides it would be fun, they’d drink, dance and maybe she’d see a cute guy. That wasn’t wrong was it? Compared to everything else it seemed to be healthy. After all if Sean had two women, couldn’t Aimee had two men?
Suddenly the elevator stopped, Aimee moved to the side expecting it to be Carrie’s floor and allowing room for her to pass. However, the doors remained closed and confused Aimee shot a glance to the number illuminated in yellow. Five. Floor five? What the heck?
Still the doors weren’t opening. It was then she heard her.
Carrie had a thing for closed in spaces, a thing that sent her into overdrive and panic. And that was exactly what was written across her face. In a moment Aimee was beside her, crouched on the elevator floor. Pushing back the blonde curls from her forehead Aimee resisted the urge to touch her. You didn’t crowd a person who needed space. You gave them air, room but there was only so much of that in the elevator.
“Hey. It’s okay. No stress, just keep breathing. Nice and big, deep breaths.”
A small reassuring smile, the type you gave to a patient. Carrie would recognise it for sure but hopefully she’d know that it would be, that this as going to be okay.
Aimee risked a look to Darcy.
“You don’t happen to be carrying any water on you do you?”
Water would help. Water was cooling. But what would really help was if maintenance bloody fixed the elevator. It wouldn’t be that long until they were found, there were only two general elevators on the ground floor and another for emergency. It wasn’t something that would go unnoticed. But the question was, could Carrie wait?
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Post by Darcy Peters on Aug 23, 2006 19:41:14 GMT -5
Will work on....eventually...
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Post by Darcy Peters on Aug 25, 2006 9:05:55 GMT -5
Am working on it, Babe. -nodnod- It will be posted today.
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Post by Darcy Peters on Aug 25, 2006 9:44:59 GMT -5
"You think you can keep up with us, Darling Darcy? We're hitting The Bar after work...join us if you dare."
“Men are weak beings. Never can keep up.”
Keep up? Were they serious? Well, it had been a long time since those two had seen him in action. Lately he had been taking over Aimee’s oh so boring job of keeping Carrie grounded. With the most devilish grin he could muster at 5:30 in the morning, he turned his body to face them and leaned against the elevator wall. He would keep up very easily. The real question was could they handle sweet ‘Darling Darcy’ as a partier? Inching over to Aimee, he used his superior height and looked down on her with a very serious fake serious face. With a smile creeping onto his lips, he poked the brunette in the side and tugged her hair like a big brother might to his little sister.
“I can surly keep up. The real question for you two is, can you handle me?”
Lurch. Drop. Whimper. What the hell? Glancing at the little illuminated box, the number five flickering slightly with the lights, his smile dropped completely. Why….what…..Oh it didn’t matter. These things shut down a lot, but nothing ever happened unless they were in a movie he didn’t know about. Taking a deep breath, he looked to his flat mates; one was on the floor in an effort to get the other calm. This was not good. He didn’t know that Carrie was claustrophobic; he had never even seen any signs before this. And any person like that in a stopped elevator was not a good thing.
As Aimee continued doing what she would do to any claustrophobic person stuck in a small area, Darcy turned to the small flashing buttons on the wall. Pushing the one marked ‘emergency use only’ next to a small speaker, he ignore Aimee completely as a bell rang in the distance. First off he did not have water, secondly, he was afraid of what he might do with Carrie so emotionally vulnerable before him, and thirdly, this was the only way he could help.
”Help Desk….what is your emergency?”
“We are trapped in elevator one, I think between floors five and four. This is Dr. Peters, and Doctors Kensington and Martin are here with me.”
Now if they had someone dying with them that was in need of immediate medical attention, he might have risked doing something drastic. But Carrie was claustrophobic, not dying. It’s not that she wasn’t important, but he could get in some serious trouble for messing with the elevator when anyone but a doctor saw claustrophobia as a minor disease. In reality, it could cause some very serious heart and blood pressure problems.
”Maintenance will be there shortly.”
Nodding to himself he turned his back the speaker and took in the situation. How would he treat any claustrophobic person that came to him? Therapy, he’d tell them to go to a psychological doctor. But he couldn’t do that now. All he really could do was back into a corner and make himself as small as possible to take up the least amount of room. Doing just that, he shrunk into the corner opposite of Carrie and changed his voice so that it mimicked a shout without the sheer volume to emphasize the space between them.
“I never realized how big these elevators really are.” Looking right a Carrie, he smiled and motioned to the space between them. “See, we are in the same one, but look how much space is here. I bet you could fit a bed or two in here.”
[[not amazing]]
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Carrie Martin
Junior Member
Healer
Pffft....you know I look damn sexy in my work uniform
Posts: 107
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Post by Carrie Martin on Aug 27, 2006 19:35:41 GMT -5
"Breath Carrie, just relax...inhale, exhale...your in a meadow, wide open spaces..." "I'm in a freaking closet, Aimee! Not a meadow! I can't breath, I'm running out of air, please, get me out." "It's locked, Carrie I'm working on it." "Faster! Just use a charm on it...something!" "My wands at work..." "Thats just fabulous, Aimee, it really is!" "Carrie I'm trying..." "I know, I'm sorry, it's just...I can't...I can't..."
Then the door was open, and Carrie stumbled out into her best friends arms, tears pouring down her face. Aimee was always there for her. In all the tight spaces. No pun intended. Now, in the elevator, where they were all trapped, she was there again. Like magic. But she barely noticed. She was too busy focusing on breathing, and not thinking about running out of air. Was that possible? Would she die of suffocation, or would the walls crush her first? Carrie always hated herself like this. She shouldn't be afraid, not with what she dealt with every day. But here she was, having a break down. God, she was insane. This thoughts didn't help.
"I'm crazy. Aimee I'm crazy. Help."
And Aimee was trying. Stroking her hair, and managing to give her as much space as possible. Carrie could tell she was only minutes away from lashing out an hurting someone, or even herself. Panic was still set in, and she faintly heard Darcy calling for help. Darcy. Darling, sweet, wonderful, Darcy who probably had no idea what was going on, but being so perfect anyway. She smiled breifly through her tears, and she could taste the salt from her face. God, she was a wreck. But they were still coming closer. She curled her body up in a ball, but it wasn't helping. Her muscles were so sore for tensing, trying to avoid the danger that didn't exsist. It wasn't working. With a moan of anger and distress, she stood, pacing the small space, a new tactic ensueing. Darcy had said there was plenty of room. She had to test this theory, prove him right. Oh god, she hoped he was right.
Wrong. So wrong. Three steps till each wall. Her eyes darted about the room and she was only catching snippets now. She banged the elevator doors and they moaned a little more, the lights flickering again. She hit it again in frustration, and the elevator lurched in response, plumetting a few feet before jerking to a stop. The emergency brake was faltering.
"No."
A sigh escaped her lips, and she sunk to the floor, a new worry sinking in. Forget running out of air. Forget the walls closing in and crushing her flat. They were all going to crash in the elevator, reduced to no more than something resembling bugs on a windsheild. As if reading her thoughts, the evil machine lurched downward again, not nearly as far, but still as menacing. The next hault sent Carrie flying into the other corner, practically on top of Darcy. The lights flickered again, before shutting off. They had lost power. Normally, touching someone sent Carrie into a bigger panic, feeling like she couldn't escape the enclosed space. But with the lights out, she seemed to forget where they were. No walls loomed at her, mocking her. Now, gripping Darcy's arm, she clung for dear life, and reached out her other arm.
"Aimee?"
She gripped her best friends hand, blinking a few times, trying to adjust to the lack of light. Ok...she could do this...focus. But it was hard to focus with Aimee shaking in her grasp. It seemed that she wasn't the only one freaked.
[[ew. short. ew. random]]
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Post by Aimee Kensington on Aug 29, 2006 5:52:19 GMT -5
Aimee could remember when they’d hidden from their trainer in a closest at work once. He hadn’t been impressed but the girls had giggled like they were teenagers listening to his yells through the wooden door. There was a large difference between being in a small space and being in a small space and not being able to get out. This was something she had soon discovered for when someone accidentally bumped the closest door from the other side locking it the atmosphere had shattered, going from laughs and shared smiles to Aimee having to deal with her friend who was digging her nails into her palm.
There were two main weaknesses that she associated with her best friend. The first was small spaces and her inability to acknowledge the fact that no the walls weren’t moving, no the oxygen wouldn’t run out and yes they would be out soon. The second was her father. Carrie’s dad had left her when she was a kid and like most men did; it was for another woman. Aimee’s weakness was lying. Not only could she not do it but also when she subconsciously forced herself to, she hated it. The thing about Aimee and Carrie was that they knew each other like sisters would, you could tell just by watching them dance, the ways their bodes arched and swayed in time with the other like it was the most natural thing in the world. And for them it was. But there was one thing Carrie didn’t know about Aimee and that thing walked, talked, breathed and was fully functional sexually. That ‘thing’ was Sean Andrews. Sean was her weakness, her drug, her addiction and just like Carrie deep down knew the walls weren’t moving but still saw them inching closer, Aimee knew that it was wrong but couldn’t ignore her happiness. Sometimes we see things differently from how they are, sometimes we can’t choose our heart over our head and sometimes the facts weren’t always the best things to go by.
Aimee stood in silence watching Darcy sit opposite Carrie in the elevator saying things that Aimee used to in hope that Carrie would catch on. She would invade her head with so much talk of wide-open spaces that eventually all Carrie could think were wide-open spaces. But back then it had only been the two of them. Now there was Darcy and this just wasn’t working.
Thankfully Darcy had contacted maintenance and it made Aimee feel a heck of a lot better knowing that someone be would there eventually. This, however was not enough for Carrie who looked to Aimee for help, a solution to the problem and nothing Aimee could give.
In response to her crazy statement Aimee held her tongue. Carrie was crazy but not in a mental, grab the straight jacket and say goodbye to coloured walls sense. More in a hyperactive look out life sense. And that’s what everyone loved about her. She was just so full of life, she made you want to smile, she made Aimee smile so she owed her this much.
“No you’re not. You’re Caroline Martin. You save people’s lives every day, you can beat this.”
Aimee watched the blonde pace the elevator, counting her steps and then with a moan sunk to the floor. Aimee was beside her once more; her eyes stared straight into Carrie’s. She could see the stress in her eyes, the sweat on her forehead, the pink in her cheeks. Her frown changed to a smile, slightly more encouraging.
“C’mon Carrie just calm down. Everything’s fine. Everything is going to be fine.”
Aimee soon had to eat her words.
The lights flickered once, twice and the elevator plummeted downwards coming to a stop with a sudden jerk. Aimee forgot about Carrie in a moment of selfish instinct and instead held fast to the walls of the elevator trying to maintain her footing. The elevator fell once more, and just like the second halt sent Carrie off her feet crashing into Darcy, it lurched Aimee into the air. She was up and then just as quickly she was down, hitting her head on the metal elevator doors with a thud. The last thing she saw was darkness and the last thing she heard was Carrie’s voice calling her, needing her.
Aimee’s fingers moved three centimetres towards Carrie’s voice and then everything went black.
[[-Grins- Couldn't resist more drama. And now Carrie and Darcy are all aloooooone. And it's one less Rp I have to be consistent in posting in. ^^ -Snickers- -Bounces- -WinkWink- Let's see how Darcy handles Carrie now all by himself. Win her over!]]
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Post by Darcy Peters on Aug 29, 2006 8:29:09 GMT -5
-snick- You naughty naughty little person
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Post by Eleanor Jansen on Aug 29, 2006 8:32:46 GMT -5
Baha. I know love me. ^^
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Post by Darcy Peters on Aug 29, 2006 14:43:01 GMT -5
-wll post sooner or later-
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Carrie Martin
Junior Member
Healer
Pffft....you know I look damn sexy in my work uniform
Posts: 107
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Post by Carrie Martin on Aug 30, 2006 16:45:10 GMT -5
Luuuuucky...I can't post till you do, love
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Post by Lily Morten on Aug 30, 2006 16:47:25 GMT -5
-snort-
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Post by Darcy Peters on Aug 30, 2006 19:30:49 GMT -5
I think I am goning to start writing this post now...
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Post by Darcy Peters on Aug 30, 2006 20:08:11 GMT -5
Lurch.
“What the hell was that?”
Looking nervously at the flickering lights and his two flat mates, his head swam.
Lurch,
The Emergency brake, the only thing that was keeping them from falling to their deaths some five floors below, was failing. This was not good not good at all. What the hell was on his arm? Why was Aimee in the air?
Flicker. Darkness.
This was not Darcy Peters’ finest moment. Then again, it was. On one hand, he was trapped in an elevator like an animal would be inside a cage, unable to get out, and knowing it was in danger. On the other hand, Carrie was clinging to him, and for the first time in his life, he felt like he meant something to her. But Aimee, where was Aimee? Listening past Carrie’s frantic breathing, he heard deep, regulated breathing. Almost like sleeping. Ah God, Aimee was unconscious. It was just him and Carrie in the elevator in a sense.
Taking a deep breath himself, he tried to pry Carrie’s hand that was locked in some kind of death-grip around his arm open. Failing to do so, he leaned back in his corner and looked at the situation as calmly as he could. Alright. Someone knew that they were trapped. Good. They now had no lights. Not so good, but it wasn’t all that terrible either. The emergency brake was slowly failing. Bad, very bad indeed. Other than that, life was just peachy. Oh yeah, Aimee was unconscious, that was sot of bad. But really other than all those things, life was pretty dandy with Carrie clinging to him. It was like one of his more clothed dreams, few as they were.
As he tried once again to free himself of the death-grip that belonged to the spoken blonde, he smiled as he finally got her to loosen up a bit. Yeah it was dark, but a smile made him feel better.
“Carrie, just try to relax, alright? Everything is going to be-“
Lurch.
“-fine.”
Turning his body a bit to find a more comfortable spot, he rubbed Carrie’s neck absentmindedly like he used to do to both of his sisters to get them to calm down during thunderstorms. His sisters really did hate thunderstorms, along with his mother. Must be a girl thing in his family. With a tired sigh, he closed his eyes and let out a small laugh; to think, all of this was happening before six o’clock in the morning. This was proof that people shouldn’t be up this early in the morning.
“Are you going to be alright?”
[]
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Carrie Martin
Junior Member
Healer
Pffft....you know I look damn sexy in my work uniform
Posts: 107
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Post by Carrie Martin on Aug 30, 2006 23:09:04 GMT -5
my turn -dies- did two decent lengthed posts tonight and its late, so I will hold off on this one and all my ones to lucky on any other board later -nods- terribly srroy, love. just the boy drama I told you about took longer than expected
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Carrie Martin
Junior Member
Healer
Pffft....you know I look damn sexy in my work uniform
Posts: 107
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Post by Carrie Martin on Sept 1, 2006 23:02:28 GMT -5
[[meh. be prepared for utter essence a la crap]]
Carrie held her breath for a moment, counting to ten and trying to calm her nerves, trying to calm the war going on inside her. The natural instinct to scream was hard to fight, and breathing was becoming more difficult as well. Aimee wasn't responding to her calls, and tears pressed her eyes. She quickly blinked them back. She needed to be stronger than this. She needed to beat this. She needed to get out of there. Even in the dark, she felt her world spinning. It was if the floor was slipping out from under her, tilting until she fell. It was a long fall. She clung to Darcy, burrying her head in his chest, breathing in the familiar smells of the flat.
"Aimee?"
She called out again, timidly, slightly muffled from hiding her face. Still no answer. Carrie's hand instinctively reached forward, and found the motionless hand of Aimee Kensington. In that split second, her mind flashed to a picture of Aimee, on a stretcher dead. Just another patient she hadn't been able to save. No no no! She forced such images out of her head, giving Aimee's hand a squeeze. The girl was merely unconsious, right? No head trauma? She felt so helpless. All the instincts as a docotr which told her to check for signs of a concussion on Aimee were tucked away elsewhere, refusing to make an appearence. She couldn't get out. She couldn't help her best friend. She couldn't see in this blasted dark. And worst of all, she couldn't see herself ever leaving the elevator.
Closing her eyes, mind still racing, she tried to think of all the things she had never done. Had never said. Carrie chose to live without regrets, so it was ironic how they caught up to her now. Filling her head, she thought of her mother whom she hadn't spoken to in years, and her fathers who managed to worm his way into her heart, even at the dismal hours of Carrie's life. Would he ever come back? Would she see him again? Would she live to see him again? Would Aimee be alright? What about her patients waiting for her, would they be ok? On and on, her thoughts danced inside her head, making her stomach do summersaults.
But a reassuring hand was stroking her neck, and one by one her questions disapated into nothing. Well, not nothing. But they weren't screaming inside her anymore, threatening to tear her limb from limb...
"No...I'm...I'm not going to be alright."
She sighed, tilting her chin so she could look up to him. In the dark, she could make out his jaw line. She smiled a bit, lacing her arm back through his. He wouldn't let her fall. Not in the literal sense or the physical one. Nuzzling back into him, she kept her death grip, and focused. They needed an escape plan. Pouting would get her no where.
But the doubts began forming in her mind. The pressure to succeed. She couldn't do this. And then she was loosing control again. Spiraling into what felt like oblviion, her breaths got shorter and she felt like she was choking on the air that wouldn't fill her lungs, and the truth she didn't want to admit.
"Darcy....I'm scared."
[[sorry, lovely. that will be hard to work with, but do your best]]
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