Post by IMOGEN BROOKES on Apr 8, 2014 2:00:12 GMT -8
Nothing sounded better to Imogen Brookes than the ‘New’ Year. It was a chance to wash the grime-filled slate clean and start fresh. It held new promises, possibilities, and for Imogen, a new life. Battles and struggles had been thrown at her from every direction that year, and with talk of the New Year boosting her spirits, she thought that maybe it held promise for her to fall back into her studies and chase her dream of becoming a Doctor – whether or not these dreams would be shared equally with her friends and family was another question entirely. Imogen was a broken girl after losing two lovers and a child in the past 6 months, and almost losing herself to Cancer – but every day she noticed little improvements in herself. Walking around became easier, her stomach would let her consume more food with each meal, and her heart was slowly mending with each picture she deleted of herself and Anthony Suarez.
Most of the trauma that Imogen had suffered throughout the year had been because of physical aspects – her body shutting down because of Cancer, her swollen belly deflating after her stillbirth, the pain of walking afterwards, the remorse she had whenever she looked in the mirror at her flat stomach, knowing only too well that she had carried her baby to almost a full trimester. Losing the one shred of Anthony she had left to clutch on to had hurt almost as much as losing Anthony himself, but when she came out of the hospital lacking her belly and her baby, her heart broke into a million pieces. If Imogen had been saved by medical science, why couldn’t her baby have? They were questions that Imogen had been pondering over for weeks after she left the hospital, confined to her apartment, hiding away from anyone who might wish to reach out to her.
Imogen didn’t want to admit it, but she felt disconnected with the world. Women her age should never have to experience these kinds of things. All of her former friends had dropped off the face of the earth once they discovered that she wasn’t going to earn them any pity from professors who could give them extra study time and prolonged exam periods because of the harsh experience they all went through by having a friend like Imogen. Her dear friend Travis had been there for her on one of the first outings she had back to school – and if her mind hadn’t been so clouded with thoughts of Anthony, she might’ve given him a chance to mend her sore, broken little heart. Imogen had to admit though – it wasn’t his broken heart to mend, it was Anthony’s. It always had been, and it always would be.
One of Imogen’s least favourite things to do now was to go to the Campus. Seeing a few of the senior students there toting around their babies and strollers made her heart squeeze in agony. With only a 15% chance of Imogen even conceiving children in the future, and a further 30% of carrying that baby to full term, Imogen saw all chance of becoming a mother quite horribly thin. Her mother still blamed her for the stillbirth, saying things like ‘you could have prayed more’ or ‘why would you have even expected it to live’. Imogen didn’t talk to her mother much anymore. How everyone spoke about her son to her made her sick to her stomach. He was not an ‘it’, he had a heartbeat and beautiful eyes and soft cheeks, yet he was born so quiet and so still – like a beautiful doll in an antique store. Imogen wasn’t given much time to say goodbye to her son before they took him away, but the love she felt for him was much more than she’d ever felt for anything else in her entire existence. Anthony knew about what had happened, of course, she owed it to him to let him know what had happened, but anything further than that she had shied away from. Seeing him again would just remind her of the beautiful creature they had created, and also of the fact that she couldn’t do the one simple thing every woman was designed for – child rearing.
Over the few weeks that Imogen had been discharged from hospital, Anthony had tried reaching out – to no avail, of course. If there was one thing that Imogen could do well after all the years of study and tuning people out, it was ignoring others. It had made her quite the recluse, but Imogen thought to herself that maybe she liked it better that way. There was no one there to feel sorry for her, no one there to constantly ask her questions that she frankly didn’t want to answer. Being in her own company wasn’t as bad as she had first thought it might be – the most daunting part of her week was going out to do the shopping, in constant fear that he might emerge from one of the aisles with those warm, welcoming brown eyes and spot her looking weak and disheveled. Imogen didn’t want to see herself the way she was everyday, and she definitely didn’t want the love of her life seeing her like that either.
One of her more frequent visits outside of her apartment was to the local psychologist in town. He was inexpensive and caring – He reminded her almost of how her father was before he found out his youngest daughter had fallen pregnant at eighteen and flushed her dreams down the toilet. He’d closed the door on his daughter as much as the rest of her family had, and she wondered why they’d tolerated her all of these years if really she was just as useful as the doorstop on their door, which was now closed off from Imogen for what she felt like would be forever. The psychologist was useful in the way that she could confide in him her biggest secrets and thoughts and know unlike her other friends, word wouldn’t send around about her deepest feelings and be told to the kinds of people who could get back to Ant about what was really going on behind closed doors in Imogens life. He was full of advice on ways to deal with her anxiety and her guilt about losing her baby – which she found out were all common things that mothers dealt with after the loss of a child. There was nothing truly wrong with her, and after a few months of the intense counseling, her psychologist suggested going out and enjoying herself.
It was almost like she was a different woman. Muscle was on her arms and her body was toned instead of a sickly bone-like look she had been graced with while she was still contaminated with cancer. The gym had become a pastime of the young girl, and she used it as a way to exert all of her negative energy into the face of a punching bag or the tread of a bicycle machine that she could burn off for hours. Life was slowly falling back into place, and when New Years finally rolled around, Imogen knew she was ready to face the world again and to see it in a different light.
The girl wasn’t some kind of technophobe of the internet, so when she caught wind of the annual Mason and Anthony boat party, she realized it would be the perfect opportunity to face her new life and show everyone that she had bounced back from the dark period in her life, and that she was opening a fresh page for the New year and if it was with or without Anthony, it would all be decided at his party.
Of course, there were a few obstacles to climb yet, this time, more of a vanity kind. Staying in all day did nothing for the woman’s skin, and so after spraying on some fake tan and getting her nails painted for the occasion, the girl headed to the hair saloon. Imogen could frankly not remember the last time she had visited Clarie, her local hair stylist. She’d been rather surprised to see the golden blonde haired pixie in the store, and with a bounce in her step she pulled the older woman in for a hug. Clarie had been a little confused at first, but after a few moments Imogen felt the woman’s hands fold around her small body, almost lifting the girl off the ground. Luckily, with all her work in the gym and eating properly, her hairdresser merely assumed she’d just been lazy with her hair and avoided getting it cut. Since it was falling down past her back now, the first thing her hairdresser did was take a huge wad of it and snip it off, still almost 3 inches past her shoulders, but short enough that it could be easily manageable.
After almost an hour, Imogen emerged and headed back towards home, the huge clock in the centre of town reading 6 o’clock. There was only two hours until the boat was due to set off, and Imogen knew if she dawdled anymore she’d certainly miss her chance to see Anthony and the rest of her friends for the new year. It was vain of her to put such effort into one night’s occasion, but her psychologist had suggested it to instill a touch of confidence into her before she set out for the celebrations. Once home, she loped her hair up into a towel and hopped into the shower, the brown liquid from the remnants of the tan washing off, leaving her with a golden glow that she’d had before winter hit and before she’d been admitted to hospital. Imogen was looking as though nothing had ever happened, and it was a breath of fresh air for the girl, who once saw herself as the ugliest girl in the world, stretch mark bearing and sun deprived, Imogen knew she looked worse for wear when she’d been in hospital, but after almost 3 months of personal rehab on her body and mind, Imogen was feeling like a new person.
Her dress was white, simple except for the intricate bodice sitting on her small curved body, legs poking out from underneath, giving an illusion to show as if her legs went on for miles. Her heels were plain black with a strap over her foot, both toes and fingers painted glossy white with sparkles – a new years eve touch that made her smile. Stepping in front of the mirror, Imogen could have sworn she looked even better than she had before hospital because of her frequent hitting of the gym, her body toned and slim from the constant conditioning. Her makeup was white, silver and black, a smoky eye with red lips to draw attention to her mouth. She would admit, it was the best she’d looked in a long time, and she was hoping both Ant and his depressed little psychopath was there to witness the woman that had emerged from the broken girl she left behind.
The dock was full of people as the boat pulled in, and she could see people staring at her as if she was some kind of mutant – Imogen hadn’t told anyone she’d be there tonight, and so her arrival was unexpected to most, especially to Ant and Mason, the parties hosts. Once everyone was inside the overly huge vessel – A George boat, of course - the boat left dock and bottles began popping.
The initial shock to the system that came with seeing all of her classmates at once after such a long time soon wore off. Imogen knew these people, she didn’t need to walk around as if she was some nervous freshman invited to a seniors party. Imogen had thrived in this environment before her terrible hand of cards had been played, and damn it she would thrive again even if it meant being thrown off the side of the ship drunk. The boat sailed easily over the coast, a nice steady breeze passing over the gyrating bodies of the vessels dance floor. Knowing the fate of her body if she muddled up in the crowd of sweat too soon, she headed below deck to where the lower quarters resided. She passed Mason with a smile before she realized exactly where she was headed. It was almost fate as her long slender legs walked down the hallway, where from one of the many rooms emerged the tall, dark and handsome Anthony Suarez. It took everything in her not to run into his arms.
The feelings that played on her heartstrings were unexpected. Longing, Passion, Lust. The woman had obviously missed the man, her palms squeezing together noting her discomfort. What was she doing over here, so far from him? This was the man who’d lost his virginity to her, the man who she had almost mothered a son with. Anthony Suarez was her knight in shining armor, and his princess was only a few feet away from him. Blue eyes caught the sight of chocolate brown ones, and if she hadn’t been in such high heels she might’ve run to him, but instead she loped over as fast as her legs would take her and crashed into his arms, nuzzling herself to the spot her face fit perfectly. ”Hey, Ant.” She whispered as she breathed him in. It was subtle, charming, perfect.
Read more: thosecollegedaze.proboards.com/thread/1436/nye-boat-bash-open-all#ixzz2yHt9z2En
Most of the trauma that Imogen had suffered throughout the year had been because of physical aspects – her body shutting down because of Cancer, her swollen belly deflating after her stillbirth, the pain of walking afterwards, the remorse she had whenever she looked in the mirror at her flat stomach, knowing only too well that she had carried her baby to almost a full trimester. Losing the one shred of Anthony she had left to clutch on to had hurt almost as much as losing Anthony himself, but when she came out of the hospital lacking her belly and her baby, her heart broke into a million pieces. If Imogen had been saved by medical science, why couldn’t her baby have? They were questions that Imogen had been pondering over for weeks after she left the hospital, confined to her apartment, hiding away from anyone who might wish to reach out to her.
Imogen didn’t want to admit it, but she felt disconnected with the world. Women her age should never have to experience these kinds of things. All of her former friends had dropped off the face of the earth once they discovered that she wasn’t going to earn them any pity from professors who could give them extra study time and prolonged exam periods because of the harsh experience they all went through by having a friend like Imogen. Her dear friend Travis had been there for her on one of the first outings she had back to school – and if her mind hadn’t been so clouded with thoughts of Anthony, she might’ve given him a chance to mend her sore, broken little heart. Imogen had to admit though – it wasn’t his broken heart to mend, it was Anthony’s. It always had been, and it always would be.
One of Imogen’s least favourite things to do now was to go to the Campus. Seeing a few of the senior students there toting around their babies and strollers made her heart squeeze in agony. With only a 15% chance of Imogen even conceiving children in the future, and a further 30% of carrying that baby to full term, Imogen saw all chance of becoming a mother quite horribly thin. Her mother still blamed her for the stillbirth, saying things like ‘you could have prayed more’ or ‘why would you have even expected it to live’. Imogen didn’t talk to her mother much anymore. How everyone spoke about her son to her made her sick to her stomach. He was not an ‘it’, he had a heartbeat and beautiful eyes and soft cheeks, yet he was born so quiet and so still – like a beautiful doll in an antique store. Imogen wasn’t given much time to say goodbye to her son before they took him away, but the love she felt for him was much more than she’d ever felt for anything else in her entire existence. Anthony knew about what had happened, of course, she owed it to him to let him know what had happened, but anything further than that she had shied away from. Seeing him again would just remind her of the beautiful creature they had created, and also of the fact that she couldn’t do the one simple thing every woman was designed for – child rearing.
Over the few weeks that Imogen had been discharged from hospital, Anthony had tried reaching out – to no avail, of course. If there was one thing that Imogen could do well after all the years of study and tuning people out, it was ignoring others. It had made her quite the recluse, but Imogen thought to herself that maybe she liked it better that way. There was no one there to feel sorry for her, no one there to constantly ask her questions that she frankly didn’t want to answer. Being in her own company wasn’t as bad as she had first thought it might be – the most daunting part of her week was going out to do the shopping, in constant fear that he might emerge from one of the aisles with those warm, welcoming brown eyes and spot her looking weak and disheveled. Imogen didn’t want to see herself the way she was everyday, and she definitely didn’t want the love of her life seeing her like that either.
One of her more frequent visits outside of her apartment was to the local psychologist in town. He was inexpensive and caring – He reminded her almost of how her father was before he found out his youngest daughter had fallen pregnant at eighteen and flushed her dreams down the toilet. He’d closed the door on his daughter as much as the rest of her family had, and she wondered why they’d tolerated her all of these years if really she was just as useful as the doorstop on their door, which was now closed off from Imogen for what she felt like would be forever. The psychologist was useful in the way that she could confide in him her biggest secrets and thoughts and know unlike her other friends, word wouldn’t send around about her deepest feelings and be told to the kinds of people who could get back to Ant about what was really going on behind closed doors in Imogens life. He was full of advice on ways to deal with her anxiety and her guilt about losing her baby – which she found out were all common things that mothers dealt with after the loss of a child. There was nothing truly wrong with her, and after a few months of the intense counseling, her psychologist suggested going out and enjoying herself.
It was almost like she was a different woman. Muscle was on her arms and her body was toned instead of a sickly bone-like look she had been graced with while she was still contaminated with cancer. The gym had become a pastime of the young girl, and she used it as a way to exert all of her negative energy into the face of a punching bag or the tread of a bicycle machine that she could burn off for hours. Life was slowly falling back into place, and when New Years finally rolled around, Imogen knew she was ready to face the world again and to see it in a different light.
The girl wasn’t some kind of technophobe of the internet, so when she caught wind of the annual Mason and Anthony boat party, she realized it would be the perfect opportunity to face her new life and show everyone that she had bounced back from the dark period in her life, and that she was opening a fresh page for the New year and if it was with or without Anthony, it would all be decided at his party.
Of course, there were a few obstacles to climb yet, this time, more of a vanity kind. Staying in all day did nothing for the woman’s skin, and so after spraying on some fake tan and getting her nails painted for the occasion, the girl headed to the hair saloon. Imogen could frankly not remember the last time she had visited Clarie, her local hair stylist. She’d been rather surprised to see the golden blonde haired pixie in the store, and with a bounce in her step she pulled the older woman in for a hug. Clarie had been a little confused at first, but after a few moments Imogen felt the woman’s hands fold around her small body, almost lifting the girl off the ground. Luckily, with all her work in the gym and eating properly, her hairdresser merely assumed she’d just been lazy with her hair and avoided getting it cut. Since it was falling down past her back now, the first thing her hairdresser did was take a huge wad of it and snip it off, still almost 3 inches past her shoulders, but short enough that it could be easily manageable.
After almost an hour, Imogen emerged and headed back towards home, the huge clock in the centre of town reading 6 o’clock. There was only two hours until the boat was due to set off, and Imogen knew if she dawdled anymore she’d certainly miss her chance to see Anthony and the rest of her friends for the new year. It was vain of her to put such effort into one night’s occasion, but her psychologist had suggested it to instill a touch of confidence into her before she set out for the celebrations. Once home, she loped her hair up into a towel and hopped into the shower, the brown liquid from the remnants of the tan washing off, leaving her with a golden glow that she’d had before winter hit and before she’d been admitted to hospital. Imogen was looking as though nothing had ever happened, and it was a breath of fresh air for the girl, who once saw herself as the ugliest girl in the world, stretch mark bearing and sun deprived, Imogen knew she looked worse for wear when she’d been in hospital, but after almost 3 months of personal rehab on her body and mind, Imogen was feeling like a new person.
Her dress was white, simple except for the intricate bodice sitting on her small curved body, legs poking out from underneath, giving an illusion to show as if her legs went on for miles. Her heels were plain black with a strap over her foot, both toes and fingers painted glossy white with sparkles – a new years eve touch that made her smile. Stepping in front of the mirror, Imogen could have sworn she looked even better than she had before hospital because of her frequent hitting of the gym, her body toned and slim from the constant conditioning. Her makeup was white, silver and black, a smoky eye with red lips to draw attention to her mouth. She would admit, it was the best she’d looked in a long time, and she was hoping both Ant and his depressed little psychopath was there to witness the woman that had emerged from the broken girl she left behind.
The dock was full of people as the boat pulled in, and she could see people staring at her as if she was some kind of mutant – Imogen hadn’t told anyone she’d be there tonight, and so her arrival was unexpected to most, especially to Ant and Mason, the parties hosts. Once everyone was inside the overly huge vessel – A George boat, of course - the boat left dock and bottles began popping.
The initial shock to the system that came with seeing all of her classmates at once after such a long time soon wore off. Imogen knew these people, she didn’t need to walk around as if she was some nervous freshman invited to a seniors party. Imogen had thrived in this environment before her terrible hand of cards had been played, and damn it she would thrive again even if it meant being thrown off the side of the ship drunk. The boat sailed easily over the coast, a nice steady breeze passing over the gyrating bodies of the vessels dance floor. Knowing the fate of her body if she muddled up in the crowd of sweat too soon, she headed below deck to where the lower quarters resided. She passed Mason with a smile before she realized exactly where she was headed. It was almost fate as her long slender legs walked down the hallway, where from one of the many rooms emerged the tall, dark and handsome Anthony Suarez. It took everything in her not to run into his arms.
The feelings that played on her heartstrings were unexpected. Longing, Passion, Lust. The woman had obviously missed the man, her palms squeezing together noting her discomfort. What was she doing over here, so far from him? This was the man who’d lost his virginity to her, the man who she had almost mothered a son with. Anthony Suarez was her knight in shining armor, and his princess was only a few feet away from him. Blue eyes caught the sight of chocolate brown ones, and if she hadn’t been in such high heels she might’ve run to him, but instead she loped over as fast as her legs would take her and crashed into his arms, nuzzling herself to the spot her face fit perfectly. ”Hey, Ant.” She whispered as she breathed him in. It was subtle, charming, perfect.
Read more: thosecollegedaze.proboards.com/thread/1436/nye-boat-bash-open-all#ixzz2yHt9z2En