Realistic or Modern Saving her | Finding Her

[Thrushwing]

~ Main Rp ~
​

They were pen pals, Desmond and Kira, in the modern age. They traded emails and texts and secrets. Which was why when the news broke that she crashed in a high speed collision by driving on the wrong side of the road it shocked him. How could it be Kira the girl he traded secrets with, who knew him and he knew her... Did she want to die? The more time passes the deeper he spirals into his delusions where he rewinds time thinking he can save her. He writes letters to her every day, waiting to see if his save was successful which would mark a response from her. Finally one day it seems his most recent attempt to save her life was successful: he gets a response. The sender (Emery) claims she's not Kira and that Kira is dead but he knows better. He finally saved her. Desmond says he won't believe it until he sees her in person. Kira's alive and that means they can finally meet.

 

[Thrushwing]

From: DisasterDitz@gmail.com
to: kitkat_kira@gmail.com
Subject: Patience is a virtue

Hey K.
Sorry I've been so busy lately. Been doing some soccer practice with the team in the summer. It's not that big of a deal though. Things aren't as strange as they usually are with me. My parents talk about me using soccer as a scholarship. I haven't told them I wouldn't be able to do it professionally because of that thing with my "eyes" y'know. Fwiw serving shitty people all day is an achievement worth bragging about. I can hardly stand all the health nuts at the juicery I work at.

And I live for your paintings K. Seriously. You could be famous with them.

If people are judging you they're probably jealous because they want to be you or they're thinking about how awesome you are. So you want to be an artist on the run? I guess the artsy spirit has always been a free one. I'll be your getaway driver. Just say the word when and we can also nab a huge bag of cash while we're at it.

Sorry I took awhile to respond,
Dizzy

Desmond clicked send from him phone and went back to practice. It was hours in the grueling heat and by the time it turned five pm he felt as if his legs would give out. He got into the large blue Tacoma truck he had bought himself for his birthday and drove home on the dusty roads. The quaint yet small town of Hazelwood here in Illinois had always been where he called home. It took about 45 minutes to get there because the park they were practicing in was the next town over.

strange.. she usually would have responded by now.

But then again this was Kira. Sometimes she wouldn't respond for a day, other times she'd respond right then and there bemoaning her (in her words) "bitchy friends".

He managed to heat up some roasted chicken with vegetables and mashed potatoes and ate it by himself. His dad was on the late shift of the hospital as a RN and his mom tutoring session with a student probably went late again. After he washed the dishes he went upstairs and wrote down a few things that could serve as some inspiration for some poetry. Sometime in the night he had drifted off into sleep because when he awoke it was 10 am. He checked his phone again. The screen was blank besides the time indicating there wasn't any email. He sighed. This was weird. Usually shed at least say she was busy. Worry gnawed at his brain. Had he said something wrong? If she didn't respond by the afternoon he'd look up her Facebook or something.