Sara Weaver
  Sandy Coves Inn, Salem, Massachusetts - morning




 Sara awoke yet again but this time it was from a terrible nightmare, she rolled over hoping that Celeste was still asleep to set her mind at ease but the impression left from her body had grown cold. Her nightmare left her paralyzed in fear and uncertainty, her body and mind to crippled to force themselves out of bed. She didn’t want to think about what she dreamt of. Her subconscious toyed with her most impactful fear, weakness. Even though she tried her best to move past it and brush it off as nothing more than a dream, she couldn’t. It felt all too real, to the point that her body aches as if it was mimicking the pain from her nightmare. Sara felt even worse because her first instinct was to seek comfort in Celeste, to her that was weakness, no one looked after her, and to her no one needed to.

 After nearly an hour of lying in bed suffering from the torment of her subconscious. Sara finally peeled herself from her bed, the sheets well dampened by her sweat. Even now that she had worked up the strength to sit on the edge of the bed Sara still felt so vulnerable, as if everything she dreamt of actually happened, or was about to. She wanted to seek out Celeste, maybe she would be able to take her mind off of what happened? No! That’s not how these things work. She needed to stand on her own two feet and power through this bullshit on her own. After all she was a badass, people didn’t fuck with her. With just the use of the word fuck Sara’s mind was taken back to her nightmare, and her attempt at mentally pumping herself up was dismantled at its core.

 Standing up from her bed Sara shambled towards the window, still open from the night before. She couldn’t explain how much she loved the smell of the ocean, and this morning seemed like a perfect time to just sit on the shore and take it all in but she didn’t want to go alone...not after what she had dreamt about, or at least not until she got past it. With the morning still being young Sara tried her best to maintain a normal routine, like she always did. Before anything else she started with her  exercises. They weren’t anything too complicated just your regular calisthenics, push ups, crunches, squats, stretches, etc. It helped her clear her head and work up a healthy sweat. 

 After she was finished and her body genuinely ached she headed into the bathroom, filling the tub again to clean herself up. Once she was finished she began to feel a substantial improvement in her mood, although she still couldn’t shake the images from her sleep. Regardless she tried her best to act like nothing happened, she got dressed in some ratty jeans, a tank top, her flannel, and a pair of white socks that had started to turn grey from use. Unsure of where Celeste went and almost too afraid to go looking for her after what had happened, or more because of what Sara wanted to happen the night before. She chose to stay in her room, door open in the hopes that Celeste would come to her. So in the meantime Sara tinkered with her gear. Checking to make sure that it was all operational and accounted for. She marveled over her new sword, cleaning the blade with an oiled rag while she sipped water from her canteen. 

 All the while she was still trying to act like she wasn’t shaken by something as mundane as a nightmare, no matter how vivid and horrifying it may have been. Even though Sara said that she would be satisfied with finding out that Eliza died. It was in moments like these that she secretly aches for someone like her to stand by her. Maybe that’s why she let her feelings for Celeste spill out. She was more afraid of being alone, than she was of being rejected.