numb · quinn

[aerona elen evan]

you're the one that i should never take, but i can't sleep until i devour you - - - - -

Loneliness was the main theme of her life lately, though she had Chris and Cass for some reason she was feeling horrible and alone. Her headaches were happening more often and also her memory loses but she didn’t want the pity of her friends and so she was silent. Cass had enough with Gareth and Chris… he was cute and a dear to her but she didn’t trust him fully for some reason she couldn’t explain. Today though Aerona was dealing with the worst headache so far, she hadn’t slept because nightmares assaulted her and she didn’t eat because headaches made her feel sick. She was lying on the couch, missing class and restlessly moving from side to side. Pills didn’t work, cold on her head didn’t work, heat didn’t work… she tried everything and nothing worked anymore and she was starting to lose her patience dealing with it, she was about to give up, honestly, she was about to do so because it was plain unbearable. The room was completely dark and in silence, but she couldn’t sleep at all and anyway it only made it worst, only when her body was completely exhausted it was when she usually fell asleep.

She tried to get distracted but had nothing to do and thinking only made her head hurt more. Still she couldn’t help but think about what was going on with Chris, Cass didn’t seem to like him and she didn’t know exactly why. Was it for something she said in the past? Something he did? Her mother also didn’t like to talk much about him; she mentioned them being happy… sometimes. She avoided the topic whenever Aerona mentioned his name; it was weird the way he talked about him, really weird. She really didn’t know what to do, she didn’t trust Chris fully, there was something about him that scared her, that stir some reaction out of her obviously from the past because she had no evidence to fear him now. He took her out and about, encouraged her to get a puppy that now was sleeping peacefully with her. Cass didn’t also tell her why he didn’t like Chris so it was all a bit irrational and she had no idea what to do. More urgent matters crossed her head as the pain hit her again and she screamed against a cushion and closed her eyes trying to press the headache away but it didn’t work much.

She got up from the couch, walked to the kitchen blindly and she didn’t remember much but minutes or maybe half an hour later she was walking down the streets to the hospital with a real big a deep cut on her arm. It wasn’t as bad as to die or something but enough to stop the pain from her head and focus it somewhere else in her body. It was a relief to have a pain she could handle and it felt refreshing the cold in her face as she walked down the street people looking at her with alarm in their faces and she completely ignoring them.

Then she was sitting on a green hospital bed with hard painkillers on her system and stitches in her arm that was resting on her lap not hurting anymore, but at least the headache was away too which was a relief. Aerona was in pretty bad shape, quite thin with big purple circles under her eyes and very pale and tired. There was no other way to describe it, without makeup her true face was out in the open. She was waiting to be evaluated by some other doctor or so the nurse had said, she didn’t pay really much attention. The door of the room opened and a man came in, he didn’t look like the other doctors so she was suspicious. “Are you the doctor supposed to be evaluating me?” She didn’t know why they were making her wait so much when they had treated the wound already and was ready to go to her home. “It’s just a wound, why wouldn’t you let me go?” She failed to mention she had done the cut herself though it might be quite obvious… still that wasn’t a reason to have her waiting there forever.

TEMPLATE BY VIKA OF CAUTION.

[quinn tyrus chevalier]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-color: #343434; padding:20px; border-top: 10px #af9390 solid; border-bottom: 10px #af9390 solid;] repair your broken wings ( WORDS ) 872 ( TAGGED ) AERONA ( STATUS ) COMPLETE Quinn Tyrus Chevalier was in the middle of some dream he wouldn’t remember when the ringing of his cell phone shattered the silence of his bedroom. The light from the screen was unnecessarily bright and somehow that small source managed to light up even the darkest corners of the cramped room. It took his hand a brief moment before he managed to find the small device on his bed side table and answered it. These calls… It would be safe to say he was used to them. He gave his patients his number just in case they were having an episode and needed him. It was rare, though, for him to receive a call from the hospital. It was unheard of, just uncommon. Quinn did his best not to see anyone outside of his office, but occasionally, he just couldn’t be helped. Emergency could arise at any hours of the night and when he was needed, he couldn’t say no. He set his phone down and glanced over at the clock before slipping out of bed with a sigh. Quinn loved his job, he did. He enjoyed helping people and wanted to be there for every single person he could possibly be there for. His job was just… depressing. Though, what did he expect? Only the shattered found his way to his office. It was his decision to care for the fallen – to repair those broken wings. He promised himself he would. He wasn’t doing it for just him, though. But, damn, did it have to be so early in the morning? Granted, his alarm clock was actually supposed to go off in less than an hour so it wasn’t like he had lost too much sleep. He just seriously wasn’t a morning person, but he never complained. The morning was as routine as ever, just half an hour off and quickened slightly so he wouldn’t leave any angel waiting. He got up, fixed a pot of coffee, got dressed, and poured himself a cup. Only, instead of relaxing at the kitchen table for a few cups of liquid caffeine, he left his cozy home and started for the hospital. He wasn’t given too many details about his new (temporary?) patient. Just that she was young and appeared to have given self-mutilation a try. That was a lot more common that Quinn liked to believe. Cutting and burning seemed to be something a lot of depressed individuals sought relief from and it seemed to be addicting. Was this the girl’s first attempt or would he see her arms littered with scars? That was something Quinn couldn’t quite understand. The most common place for a person to harm themselves was their arm – the inside of their wrist to be exact. It was a part of the body that was often shown yet so many scars have gone by unnoticed. People didn’t care to look. It was obvious yet so much so that it was actually a fantastic hiding place. A subconscious plea for help. Quinn made it to the hospital in record time, and he surprisingly made it without running into anything. One cup of coffee normally wouldn’t do it but he had to deal. He wasn’t the center of the planet. Not at the moment. Quinn felt odd as he walked down the hallway, searching for the room that belonged to the girl. He had a leather bound notebook tucked under his arm and a pen in the pocket of his jacket. He was the only person without a white coat and it bothered him without much reason as to why. Though, he didn’t have time to worry about it. Quickly, he found the room and quietly slipped into it. His light gaze took in the girl and he offered her a warm smile. “Hello, Miss…” he paused because they had failed to provide a name for him. Or at least if they did give him a name, he had already forgotten. Quinn took a step forward and pulled the clipboard off the front of the bed she was assigned where he could find all the patient information. “Miss Evan. My name is Dr. Chevalier and yes, I am the doctor that is supposed to be evaluating you.” His voice was steady and he took a moment to glance over the sheet of information before he pulled a chair over to the side of her bed and sat down. Crossing one leg over the other, he set the notebook and clipboard in his lap, angled just right so she couldn’t see the papers. “I was informed that you brought yourself to the hospital with a severe laceration on your arm – self-inflicted. Is that correct?” His gaze lifted from his now open notebook and he pulled the pen from his pocket as he watched her. She looked as if she hadn’t slept for days, which was rather worrisome. “Miss Evan, things to that nature are never just a wound. I promise you this won’t take too long, though. I just want to talk to you for a little while,” he offered her another sincere smile. Sometimes talking was the best medicine. It was just prying at the flood gates made it so difficult. hopefully i gave you enough to reply to~

table by CALIFORNIA DREAMING of CAUTION 2.0, lyrics by maroon 5

[aerona elen evan]

you're the one that i should never take, but i can't sleep until i devour you - - - - -

Hospitals weren’t her favorite place in the world, Aerona seemed to spend half her life in them and she honestly hated that. She managed to stay away from them while in Paris but it was bound to happen at some point. Back when she was home she knew leaving wasn’t the best option, she hadn’t exactly ditched physical therapy but once it was over she refused more help, and about the mental healing… let’s just say she refused any kind of that help because she wasn’t… exactly traumatic. Running away seemed like the best option at the time, she didn’t count with the side effects of the accident though it was much better going through them alone than in the company of strangers. Aerona feared strangers, they pushed and pulled her everywhere, forcing things into her she couldn’t remember and acting weird around her, most of them didn’t know how to act around her when she was back home, they babbled until they realized she couldn’t remember the things they were talking about and then they will offer her that look of pity. Small towns were horrible to grow up in, she decided, but Paris didn’t seem like the best place either.

There she was sitting again in a horrible hospital bed for a very different reason this time and facing what she had tried so hard to avoid, she needed the help. Aerona failed to mention she had done this to herself but she guessed it had been quite obvious by how she looked like. Pale, tired and fucked up, at least that was how she felt but it was nothing she couldn’t get through she just needed the nightmares and headaches to disappear. She hated being there all by herself waiting, she didn’t know the reason why of a second evaluation but she feared it wasn’t going to be about her arm this time and that didn’t help at all. Soon enough her answers opened the door in the form of a man, she had expected someone older but he was quite young and… even handsome if you took a good look. Her first impression of him would have been good if he wasn’t the reason she was still at the hospital and not home enjoying not having a headache for the first time in weeks. She frowned and snorted, no white coat meant mental help and that was exactly what she needed… not. “I hate hospitals.” She muttered under her breath.

She let the man talk and take a seat by the side of her bed. “I forgot to mention that to the nurse, but she so happened to read my mind.” Sarcasm was so unusual on her that it felt completely strange in her mouth once the words rolled out of her tongue but she couldn’t help it. Aerona hated being pitied and being helped with things she had under control. So what if her headache had been so unbearable that she couldn’t take it anymore? It wasn’t as if pills were going to help her, or talking for that matter. “Stop calling me Miss Evan, my name’s Aerona.” She had to laugh, a rather bitter laugh but still she had to, it was so stupid being given that crap by an unknown man, she just wanted to get back home to her lowered blinds and things she knew… and forget often. “Uh yeah, right. Well I’m sorry to disappoint you and to trouble you but I’m perfectly fine, this is only a wound, nothing weird behind it. This is not a call for attention or a suicide attempt, my life is not fucked up and I don’t need any kind of help thank you very much.” That wasn’t entirely true, her life was fucked up thanks to that accident and she had troubles but it wasn’t like he could help with them could he? Was he going to make her nightmares go away? Or that lonely feeling she got? She very much doubted it.

She was doing a lot of things she wasn’t used to today, being rude, sarcastic, bitter… it wasn’t her usual style though she barely knew about that herself, her personality was still unclear for her. Aerona bit her lip and fidgeted with the sheets in the bed staring at the man, he seemed nice enough; there was no pity in his eyes, she might as well give him a bit of a chance, even if it was small. “But if you want to make those questions go ahead and start talking, the faster we get over this the sooner I’ll be home.” Okay so that wasn’t very nice either but the wound in her arm was uncomfortable, she was in bad mood and sitting in the hospital, what could he expect? She was on the edge of exhaustion to the point where her body was about to disconnect from her mind and get some sleep, but it was nice not having to sleep because that meant no nightmares to deal with.

TEMPLATE BY VIKA OF CAUTION.

[quinn tyrus chevalier]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-color: #343434; padding:20px; border-top: 10px #af9390 solid; border-bottom: 10px #af9390 solid;] repair your broken wings ( WORDS ) 698 ( TAGGED ) AERONA ( STATUS ) COMPLETE The barrage of comments thrown at Quinn – even laced with the sarcastic bitterness that they were – honestly wasn’t surprising. This girl wasn’t the first Quinn had met in the hospital and he doubted she would be the last. It seemed these sorts of confrontations always poised the snake to bite, and that was exactly why he preferred to meet his patients in his office – by their own free will. They were less likely to snap. That was, of course, if they weren’t dragged in by their parents. Meetings like this were just bound to happen and they were a common fact Quinn had learned to accept. His smile didn’t falter once, nor did his gaze leave Miss Evan’s. His posture remained relaxed, as if this was the most normal conversation on the face of the planet, and to him it was. But, god, could he use another cup of coffee. He was definitely going to hit Starbucks on his way to his office. “To be honest,” he began almost hesitantly, though his voice was still as calm and clear as day, “Hospitals aren’t my favorite places either.” Perhaps if he could establish some kind of mutual understanding with Miss Evan – ehem, Aerona – then this conversation could become a bit smoother and less painful for the girl. Or for both of them. “I do apologize,” his voice held a hint of a smile, “I just wasn’t sure if you wanted me to refer to you as Aerona or Miss Evan. Now I know.” Oh, she was a firecracker. Demanding, too. Quinn wished he could say that it amused him. It just meant that she would be difficult. Of course, this was to be expected. She didn’t want to be here and she definitely didn’t want to be talking to him. But it must be done considering she entered the hospital with self-inflicted wounds. She was lucky she wasn’t immediately transported to a mental facility the moment she was stable. A laceration as described on her medical file could automatically be label a suicide attempt. Hell, any self-inflicted wound that needed stitches could be labeled that nowadays. Quinn fell silent as Aerona ranted about the wound. A quizzical glint glittered in his blue eyes and he tilted his head to the side slightly as he listened. This is what he was good at – reading people and listening to them. Everyone was an open book. It just took a careful eye and a bit of knowledge. Obviously, she was uncomfortable with his presence and anxious to leave. If she didn’t verbalize that enough, her slight fidgeting would have given it away. Though, that little fidget could also mean more. So much more. Was she hiding something? Though her gaze didn’t flicker away… Quinn took a quiet breath, resting his elbows on the arm of the chair before speaking up: “Aerona, you admitted this cut was self-inflicted. If it’s not a call for attention or a suicide attempt, then what is it?” he twisted the pen back and forth between his thumb and index finger, “Often times a person inflicts harm upon their body as a form of control – over their emotions or some outside force inflicting its own harm upon the individual. By cutting themselves or burning themselves, the individual has a grasp on what they feel and can manipulate it to their pleasing when they can’t manipulate other variables,” he wasn’t suggesting or accusing Aerona of doing this. He was simply stating an observation he had witnessed over the years of treating patients with varying illnesses. “Sometimes it’s even use as a distraction.” His gaze dropped to his notebook after he tucked the clipboard beneath it. Turning to a clean page, he wrote down Aerona’s full name and a few notes about her. “When was the last time you have gotten sleep, Aerona? You look awfully tired and I apologize for prolonging your stay here. If you wish, you can lay down.” He wasn’t sure if he should believe Aerona when she stated – so blatantly – that it wasn’t a suicide attempt. How many times has he heard that? Then again, it doesn’t always have to be that way, does it? hopefully i gave you enough to reply to~

table by CALIFORNIA DREAMING of CAUTION 2.0, lyrics by maroon 5

[aerona elen evan]

you're the one that i should never take, but i can't sleep until i devour you - - - - -

Being the observant girl she was Aerona notice this kind of thing wasn’t unusual for him. Well it was his job after all just like her majoring was acting and that made her extremely good at hiding things. He was there as calm as if this was a conversation about weather and she wasn’t sitting in a hospital bed with a wounded arm resting in her lap. She was used to this after all, she had to spend weeks in the hospital after waking up from her coma and was used to the nurses asking her million questions she couldn’t answer and so on. This was different though, he was asking about the reasons behind something quite simple and trying to get into her mind, if there was something Aerona hated it was that, people getting into her life and mind. She rolled her eyes at him; sure he hated hospital, who didn’t? But she could bet her ass they hated them for very different reasons. She wasn’t trying to be hard but it was just flowing like that and since she had the habit of going along with her emotions she just didn’t bother to try and change it. “Sure, but for very different reasons I guess.” Rolling her eyes again she shifted in the bed, her arm quite uncomfortable but at least she could think clearly.

The man was trying to be nice to her and to calm down her mood but she wasn’t feeling like calming. Her head didn’t hurt for the first time in days or even weeks and she wanted to enjoy the feeling and maybe even get some sleep and instead she was forced to talk to this man because she was labeled as suicidal. What a stupid thing, if she wanted to kill herself she would have done it other way, the cut was carefully done away from any dangerous places though it was deep enough for her mind and nerves to focus on it and leave her head alone which was the point of it all. There wasn’t any other reason behind, she had always been a fighter and that wasn’t going to change now. That crap he was giving her about a hidden meaning behind her cutting herself because she couldn’t control her emotions was that, crap. She snickered and shook her head. “My head hurt. I wanted it to stop.” Aerona shrugged giving him the simple answer to his questioning. It was the truth and she made sure of holding his gaze while she said those words, she wasn’t lying. “As you might have in my medical record, I suffer from severe migraines and memory lose due to a car accident and a three months coma.” Explaining this again was tiresome and she avoided talking about that as often as she could.

Running a hand through her hair she shifted again in the bed this time uncomfortable by his question. Yes, she avoided sleeping as much as she could thanks to her nightmares, she discovered she had them during her time on the hospital and was often sedated by nurses because she refused to sleep. Pills didn’t work anymore the same way painkillers didn’t work with her headaches but the strong medicine they had given her managed to calm down both her pains. “Without any sleep at all maybe a day, my body ends up collapsing and I get to sleep an hour or so.” Shaking her head no Aerona stayed the way she was, sitting in the bed. “I don’t want to make myself comfortable here.” Was this really necessary? But more importantly, why was she answering his questions truthfully? Maybe because if she answered with the truth that was less complicated than lying she would be able to go home earlier. Where did she have her things? She needed to call Cass or Chris or Zayvion to pick her up and take her home, to save her from this man that was question her mental health. “Look, not even doctors can help with my sleeping habits or the headaches, and it’s only getting worst. I know what’s coming my way and I deal with it the best way I can, I refuse this kind of help, it’s only going to trouble you and me. I have nothing to say. What do you want from me?”

She had things to say but she didn’t want to voice them out loud, it was painful enough recognizing she was going to lose her memories at some point and that she won’t get them back, instead of getting better just going worst every time. Aerona didn’t want to talk about the bits of memories; she didn’t want to talk about her nightmares and about how she felt. “I tend to just go with how I feel and do what I feel to do. My head hurt, I wanted it to stop, painkillers didn’t help and it was unbearable so I hurt myself to focus the pain on a different place I could control and get rid of the one in my head. It was the simple answer, no hidden meaning behind it. That is all.”

TEMPLATE BY VIKA OF CAUTION.

[quinn tyrus chevalier]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-color: #343434; padding:20px; border-top: 10px #af9390 solid; border-bottom: 10px #af9390 solid;] repair your broken wings ( WORDS ) 789 ( TAGGED ) AERONA ( STATUS ) COMPLETE There were a multitude of reasons Quinn didn’t particularly like hospitals. For example, they had the nastiest coffee on the face of the planet. But the main reason Quinn hated the hospital was because it linked him to memories he’d rather… Well, not forget but… Keep locked away in the darker recesses of his mind. Every piece of his history made him what he was today. To forget even the smallest memory had the potential to drastically change everything about him. While he didn’t like to remember, he could never even dream of forgetting. Quinn tilted his head to the side in that very curious way only a psychiatrist could. A contemplative expression settled in his features and there was only a short paused before he softly asked, “What are your reasons for hating the hospital?” Perhaps they weren’t so different. Quinn just wanted that little bit of connectivity, honestly. Of course, that alone would be quite difficult. As would most things be. He noted the rolling of her eyes. Quinn’s gaze fell to the paper of his notebook in front of him. The pen was still rolling back and forth between his fingers as he continued his notes on Aerona. He only glanced up as she commented on the cutting again. So, there was no emotional problem she was trying to fix, but more of a physical need. Quinn wasn’t wrong. “So you sliced your arm open because of a headache,” it wasn’t a question. He simply just needed to repeat in order to make sure he understood her. She seemed genuine in her answer. Perhaps she didn’t have a death wish but that didn’t mean everything was perfect. Obviously, this was a last resort, which meant that medication no longer helped her. Chances are, she would end up here again and she might not be as lucky. God, she probably had a lot to deal with. He had seen in her medical file that she was in a car accident, put into a coma, and woke up three months later. Now she suffered from memory loss and intense migraines that were apparently strong enough to make her slit her wrist. “I’m very aware of that,” his nodded his head gently before glancing down at the clipboard pinned against his leg. It must be horrible, he thought. “However, you must understand that inflicting this kind of damage upon yourself is not the way to fix things.” If it were, blood would flood the streets and the population of this planet would decrease dramatically. Though, a dwindling population might not be such a horrible thing. With a gentle shake of his head, the thought was expelled from his mind. His main concern was Aerona, not the overpopulated Earth. Not anything else. If she experienced migraines and memory loss, what else could her damaged neurons be assaulting her with? Was the accident also the reason of her lack of sleep? And as she continued, he couldn’t help but shake his head and write this in his notes. It was insane. Quinn could survive on maybe four to three hours of sleep with a cup of coffee the size of his head. Any less would make him completely unable to function in society. How did she manage? And, finally, with a sigh, he stopped writing and leaned completely back in the chair. His gaze raised to take her in for the umpteenth time, his smile just a ghost on his lips. “Sometimes there are things that doctors – the ones in hospitals – cannot help. After so many years of researching, the mind is still a complicated machine. It’s not something you can just go in and fix. It takes time and effort,” he took a breath, the smile now completely gone, “I understand that you are just trying to take it as it comes – go with the motion of the ocean, so to speak – however, this,” Quinn motioned to her damaged arm, “is not how it should be done. You are independent, I get that. You don’t want help. It’s understandable. You want that little bit of control, Aerona. This, your arm, proves it,” Quinn was completely bent on that idea. She wanted control over her life again. She wanted her memory, for the headaches to stop. “But, Aerona, you don’t have that power. What are you going to do when the migraine comes back? Slice your other arm?” His voice adopted a concerned tone despite his words. He didn’t want to sound like an ass, he just wanted her to understand, “Painkillers no longer work, after all. All I want from you is to think before you act, and to consider the idea of help.” He couldn’t force her, after all. hopefully i gave you enough to reply to~

table by CALIFORNIA DREAMING of CAUTION 2.0, lyrics by maroon 5

[aerona elen evan]

you're the one that i should never take, but i can't sleep until i devour you - - - - -

No one ever asked her that question, not as if they really cared about the answer. Though Aerona never gave it away either, no one asked, she never had to answer. But this man was taking his time trying to get to know her even if he was only doing his job. Her reasons to hate the hospital was easy and simple, she spent too much time in there and had too many horrible memories. When she woke up for the first time, the weeks that followed, the year in physical therapy, the medication… all of that. Every time she set a foot there memories came to her mind, horrible memories and nightmares, things she wished she could forget but that were inside her mind so deep that not even the side effects could wash over the horror of her first memory. She played with the sheets of the bed and fidgeted with the bandage in her arm. “My very first memory was in an hospital, and it’s not a very good memory.” Aerona sighed, suddenly very tired. The anger and fire inside her was still burning strong enough to have a wall between that man and her.

Aerona didn’t want to fight anymore. She didn’t want to be there and she didn’t want to listen. The reasons in her mind were pretty clear at least for her and in all honesty, she didn’t need for people to understand what she did, all she asked of them was leaving her alone. “Yes, that’s it.” She titled her head in curiosity and shrugged her shoulders, she didn’t know what to make of this, why was he here? This tale wasn’t mean for her at all, what she needed was help but not this kind of help, stronger medicines or an answer for her problems. “Nothing works anymore, I know it’s not the best answer but it’s just the only way I could think about.” She bit her lip with and some sort of sad and ironic smile crept on her face as she raised her eyes to look at him. “Well, I couldn’t think.” When she had terrible headaches she couldn’t think or focus at all. Aerona didn’t like it all when all she could do was sit or lay in the couch. It wasn’t much of a problem when she came to Paris; maybe her not sleeping only accelerated the process, she could go on without sleeping for a long time because since she discovered she had nightmares years ago Aerona started to skip sleep.

She sighed and rubber her eyes, her body was demanding sleep now that her head was in peace and she was feeling really tired, the fire in her slowly dying, maybe he wanted to help her, maybe she could really allow him to help her. “I don’t want control, I know what it’s going on and I accept it, and I’m not fighting against it.” Aerona didn’t mind not having memories, past was past and she had a future ahead of her, she did mind, however, losing her future because she keep forgetting bits of this and that and also because she had to spend a good quality time inside her house because of her migraines. So yes, she wanted to be free to be able to build a new life. “I know my life won’t be the same it was before, and I know I won’t be getting it back. I’m fine with that. What I want to do is… peace. I can deal with losing my memory but I can’t handle the nightmares and headaches.” She sighed again, sitting more comfortably on the bed but still not laying. She really didn’t want to get comfortable and she didn’t want to keep talking, but the sooner she got over it the sooner she was going to get out of here, all he said was the same, time and time again. “What I am supposed to do, then? If painkillers don’t work.”

Aerona looked at him exasperated and shook her head, rubbing her eyes again and closing her eyes. “I don’t sleep because I have nightmares, bits of memories, almost all of them hazy and blurry, noises… colors… painkillers don’t work, headaches make me feel sick and weak and I’m not hungry… I can deal with a lot of things; I can deal with this too.” She dealt with this; she dealt with a lot of things in her short life, help was coming late, really late, when there was little people could do or so she believed.

TEMPLATE BY VIKA OF CAUTION.

[quinn tyrus chevalier]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-color: #343434; padding:20px; border-top: 10px #af9390 solid; border-bottom: 10px #af9390 solid;] repair your broken wings ( WORDS ) 623 ( TAGGED ) AERONA ( STATUS ) COMPLETE Tabula rasa. It is the theory that everyone is born with a blank slate and leans more toward the nurture part of nature versus nurture. However, that isn’t to say it cannot occur after birth. If someone acquires enough damage or trauma to their head, their memory could be completely wiped clean. That seems to be the very case with Aerona. If the first thing she remembered was the hospital, it was no wonder she didn’t like it. Who would? But that wasn’t the point. The point was that studies were going on in hopes of reversing the effects of tabula rasa. Memories, some believed, were never quite wiped away. The brain was just damaged and the compartments in which memories were stored as unreachable due to trauma. However, certain senses had a way of unlocking those compartments. Something as simple as the smell of their favorite meal can trigger the memory of life at home. Sounds and pictures also had the capability of releasing memories. Granted, the studies were still going on and some of the data gathered is positive, some not so much. The brain is a complex machine and even after all these years, people still don’t quite have it figured out. Quinn remained quiet for a moment, allowing her the chance to talk without interruption. He didn’t quite know what time it was but he knew he should be leaving soon so he wouldn’t miss his first patient. Aerona needed sleep, anyway, and he didn’t want to keep her from that. Especially since she was currently headache – and ultimately pain – free. She needed a decent amount of rest for once. Having recorded everything he needed, he kept his gaze focused on her, the butt of his pen pressed lightly against his lips. She… this… wasn’t something that could be fixed easily. Migraines like hers were obviously debilitating. If medications couldn’t qualm the pain, then perhaps it was something beyond physically wrong with her. Perhaps there was something more. He wasn’t positive, he could never be positive, but emotions also had a strong pull when it comes with illnesses. Undoubtedly, she was experiencing stress. That weakened the immune system and in itself could cause headaches. So could emotions like anger, guilt, depression, lack of nutrients, fatigue… Especially fatigue. He knew for a fact she was fatigued. Perhaps stress and that alone was enough to concoct a deadly cloud of pain in her mind. Add in the fact of severe head trauma even if it was so far in her past… It wasn’t surprising medications no longer worked. Perhaps she needed something besides painkillers like sleeping pills. Or something to… dim any negative emotions she might be feeling. Though, now nightmares were a variable. Of course she didn’t want to sleep if she were having nightmares. Though they were links to her past… Quinn couldn’t understand what could be frightening about them. Unless, of course, she had a horrible past before the accident. “Aerona,” he interrupted her softly, pulling the pen from his mouth, “I understand nightmares could turn someone off of sleeping, but you claim they’re bits of memory. What exactly makes them nightmares?” Again, he just wanted to understand her thinking process. She could probably guess where he was going with this. “A lack of sleep along with a poor diet and stress – among other negative emotions – can produce migraines. Perhaps painkillers are no longer working because this is more than a physical pain. Emotions have the ability to be subtle like an invisible breeze or raging like a storm. You may be experiencing something you’re not aware of because you’re always so tired,” he paused, closing his notebook and pocketing his pen before returning his attention to her. hopefully i gave you enough to reply to~

table by CALIFORNIA DREAMING of CAUTION 2.0, lyrics by maroon 5