🕷️ ann53 🕷️

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12:51pm


the door slides open and i walk in.

"you are 51 minutes late," apple states, frowning at me. i stand in front of her, she sitting on the edge of her bed.

she's been really into our relationship that we have going on. so i guess borkov was right in some sense.

structure.

she likes that.

"blame your brother," i tell her.

"what did he do?"

"he and anna were late this morning," i explain.

"we have practice," she emphasizes.

"we're about to start apollonia. come on. let's relax," i tell her and grab the older model ekg machine from the corner of her room, wheeling it over.

i grab the wires.

"am i going to leave this room?" she asks me.

"when you're ready," i say, connecting a few wires to her temples and a few on her chest.

"when am i ready?" she frowns.

"when i say so," i state, ending the conversation.

she grumbles. something about i say that all the time.

i continue setting everything up.

"what are we focusing on today?" she asks, as the machine picks up her pulse.

"we're going to focus on your happy place," i tell her.

"my happy place?"

"yes. focus. we're starting."

she takes a deep breath and closes her eyes.

after a while of the monitor tracking her breathing and pulses, she finally speaks, "just the same. empty."

her timing to get into her happy place gets quicker, but it's a slow uphill ride.

"that's not what we're focusing on. do you know where home is?"

she nods.

"florida," she says.

"good. and do you remember your mom's apartment?"

"yes."

"go to it. go to your mom's apartment."

"how?"

"imagine it. you've been there. just like you've been to your happy place in real life with your mom. so go to your home."

she's silent until her pulse begins to rise.

"it's changing," she tells me.

i smile.

"is it your mom's home?"

"it is! i'm home!" she exclaims.

"good apollonia. can you walk through? can you interact?"

she's silent.

"i can but i can't move anything, or pick up something."

"that's okay. that's your limitation. but check your mom's room? is everything the same?"

she gasps, opening her eyes, and pulling the wires off her head.

"i'm done," she orders.

"was it the same?" i repeat.

"yes. she was dead. you happy?"

"apollonia, you're not imagining these places. you're going to them."

"what?"

"astral projection apollonia. you are traveling."

"you made me see my dead mom," she says, scolding me.

"you're not understanding-"

"i understand you're a bitch," she curses.

i chuckle.

"you've opened a new doorway apollonia. we're steps closer."

"to what?"

"don't you worry your pretty head," i grin.

𝖆𝖒𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖘𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖒 | d.f. | book twoOù les histoires vivent. Découvrez maintenant