08-15-2013, 06:55 PM
It bears saying, perhaps, that Shoshannah is not rude. She's creepy, and frightening, and eerie, and short tempered, and a lot of things, but rude is not one of them. When Lena tries to tell her things, she listens as well as an eighteen-year-old whose not.my.dad.not.my.anything
-- maybe she would explode if someone tickled her --
is in critical condition in a hospital can. She's quiet, and still, and says thank you for telling me in a whispersoftphonographscratch voice that's still too loud for her in this place, at this time. So whenever the thing happens with Ana, Shoshannah has at least an idea of what's going on. It helps, maybe, or not - she's uneasy here, vaguely nauseous with so many spirits halfway and hovering, clinging, cryingcryingcrying for attention, for someone to tell them where to go and
she
doesn't
understand
like she once did and looks like she might throw up, or faint, or both, and that's aside from the worry about the man she's called Padre almost exclusively since she met him. So she settles herself the best way she knows how (because no way in hell is she leaving this place without seeing Padre, without whispering into his ear as she had
nonono, don't think about that
her grandmother's all those years ago) - which may sound ridiculous to those who think that eighteen is equivalent to eight and she couldn't possibly know much, but it was half her life ago and that's enough to merit being thought of as all those years - without telling him . . . something. She doesn't know what, and part of the panicked (metallic) feeling at the back of her throat and nape of her neck is the sheer foreign nature of it all. It's been since her grandmother that she had to deal with anything like this - with caring about someone, with sitting at the hospital waiting for news - that, in this case, she won't even get until Rafael, a guy she's never met, is here and only then if he decides to share it with her.
It all makes Shoshannah's eyes itch.
It's abrupt, random, and probably right before Lena gives up on Shoshannah saying anything more than whatever she's mumbling as she counts the stitches in her arm warmers that Shoshannah finally says. "I need a phone. Will you go get me one? I'll give you the cash I've got." Which isn't much, granted, but is plenty for a $10 tracfone and a $15 minutes card or something. It should give her texting and calling capability, anyway, so she's not the last to know next time something happens to someone she . . .
. . . we'll leave it at 'cares about'.
-- maybe she would explode if someone tickled her --
is in critical condition in a hospital can. She's quiet, and still, and says thank you for telling me in a whispersoftphonographscratch voice that's still too loud for her in this place, at this time. So whenever the thing happens with Ana, Shoshannah has at least an idea of what's going on. It helps, maybe, or not - she's uneasy here, vaguely nauseous with so many spirits halfway and hovering, clinging, cryingcryingcrying for attention, for someone to tell them where to go and
she
doesn't
understand
like she once did and looks like she might throw up, or faint, or both, and that's aside from the worry about the man she's called Padre almost exclusively since she met him. So she settles herself the best way she knows how (because no way in hell is she leaving this place without seeing Padre, without whispering into his ear as she had
nonono, don't think about that
her grandmother's all those years ago) - which may sound ridiculous to those who think that eighteen is equivalent to eight and she couldn't possibly know much, but it was half her life ago and that's enough to merit being thought of as all those years - without telling him . . . something. She doesn't know what, and part of the panicked (metallic) feeling at the back of her throat and nape of her neck is the sheer foreign nature of it all. It's been since her grandmother that she had to deal with anything like this - with caring about someone, with sitting at the hospital waiting for news - that, in this case, she won't even get until Rafael, a guy she's never met, is here and only then if he decides to share it with her.
It all makes Shoshannah's eyes itch.
It's abrupt, random, and probably right before Lena gives up on Shoshannah saying anything more than whatever she's mumbling as she counts the stitches in her arm warmers that Shoshannah finally says. "I need a phone. Will you go get me one? I'll give you the cash I've got." Which isn't much, granted, but is plenty for a $10 tracfone and a $15 minutes card or something. It should give her texting and calling capability, anyway, so she's not the last to know next time something happens to someone she . . .
. . . we'll leave it at 'cares about'.