METHOD OF BEDLAM ━ 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐒𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐛𝐲 ²

𝐢𝐢. 𝐬𝐢𝐱𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧 ; a fucked up holiday

"What was it about this time?" Diego asked, his concern deepening. He knew Marianna's dreams often held a certain weight, and he had witnessed the toll they took on her even after she woke.

"It was different this time," Marianna whispered, her voice a mere whisper as she struggled to shake off the unsettling images. "Not just the baby, but the surroundings. Everything felt so real, so twisted."

Her cousin frowned; concern etched across his face. "Real and twisted? What do you mean?"

Closing her eyes, Marianna tried to recollect the details of the dream. Diego winced as she recalled her vivid dreams, his protective instincts kicking in. "Maybe it's just stress, Mari. You've been through a lot lately. Dreams can be weird when your mind is overwhelmed."

Nodding, Marianna agreed with a sigh. "Maybe you're right."

"Dreams can be strange and intense sometimes, but they're not real. You're back in the real world now, and I'm here with you." Diego gave her a comforting yet awkward smile.

She managed a weak smile in return, grateful for Diego's presence. "Thank you for waking me up. It felt like I was trapped in that dream."

Diego squeezed her hand gently. "Anytime. If you need to talk or if it happens again, I'm right here. For now, try to relax. It was just a dream, and you're safe. Plus, we have a festivity to go to."

The strawberry blonde acquiesced, taking a deep breath to shake off the lingering anxiety. Diego stayed by her side, offering his presence as she gradually calmed down, the remnants of the unsettling dream fading away in the warmth of reality. 

── ✵ ──

In the course of the worries, tragedies, and problems that had weighed heavily on Marianna, a temporary respite arrived in the form of a celebration. The night marked the grand reopening of the garrison, a momentary escape from the harsh realities that had gripped her life.

For this special occasion, Marianna and those around her set aside their troubles, at least for the night. The air buzzed with anticipation and revelry as the garrison, once a symbol of defiance and resistance, now became the backdrop for a joyous celebration. The atmosphere held a mixture of nostalgia, resilience, and the collective spirit of those who had weathered storms together.

Marianna, dressed in the hauntingly familiar dress that Thomas had given her two years ago, carried with her the weight of a night that had changed everything. The memories lingered; a visceral tapestry of emotions etched in her mind. The feeling of being pushed against the wall, the disgust of being groped, the relentless rain, the desperate struggle for a firearm, the deafening sound, and the metallic smell of blood on her hands—all intertwined with the white innocence of the dress she's then adorning.

Shaking her head to dispel the haunting memories, Marianna walked towards the new and opulently furnished bar where Thomas stood behind.

Marianna's wide, dazzling smile masked the storm of emotions churning within her. The promise of a good night hung in the air, a fragile facade concealing the unsettling news about Thomas. Deep down, she wrestled with conflicting thoughts, torn between the desire to maintain a semblance of normalcy and the weight of the unsettling information.