7:00 AM
Page wakes up to her own internal clock. Her phone sits calmly on her nightstand, a notification shining out to her that says, "Alarm will sound in less than one minute." She dismisses the alarm before it can sound and gets up from her bed. Breathing deeply, she stares around her loft, a sense of something strange looming over her, almost hanging on her. She chalks this up to having just woken up.
She got dressed in a comfortable hoodie, a pair of yoga pants she'd left on the back of a chair in the kitchen, then left her apartment. She held her cane loosely in her hand, mostly for comfort than any other reason. Her knee wasn't troubling her so far.
Heading out quickly into the chill air of a Driftmoore morning, Page made her way to the only gym in the area worth paying monthly for. It was a daily ritual, less about the exercise or actual 'physical therapy' she had been prescribed and more about getting in tune with herself. She'd worked out every morning once her parents told her she was old enough, but after the accident, she kept the ritual up only out of habit, at first.
She stretched, jogged a little, pushed herself to sprint a bit, and even went and lifted some weights, mostly because she didn't want to go home after cardio alone. It was then that she saw a rather handsome man dancing through the gym. There weren't many people there to watch this unfold, an older couple pushing each other to work hard who paid her no mind, as well as two trainers with their clients. The fitness scene hadn't really hit Driftmoore like it did in bigger cities. Page laughed for a moment as the many danced through his routine and then took his headphones off. He flashed her a smile. Page would be lying if she didn't admit he was kinda cute.
With that thought, Page returned home.
8:15
Page showers, dresses, puts her messenger bag over her shoulder, her camera around her neck, and presses the tip of her cane against the ground. Today would be a good day, physically. She could feel it. Her knee would already be giving her issues if that weren't the case. Smiling in spite of herself, Page walks out of the apartment, shuts the door, then locks it behind her. A little under an hour after waking up, Page heads to work. She stops briefly and watches as a redheaded woman walks past her. That would be... a neighbor, right? Page couldn't place her right then and there, but she recognized her, she was sure of it.
9:30 AM
Page sits at her desk at the magazine, The Driftmoore Hermetic (an experimental title to be sure), and starts her computer. Quickly she checks her email, answers some messages from back home, sends that e-card to her mother for Aunt Becca's birthday, checks out leads for various articles, then calmly nods her head forward in a slump.
She forgot her coffee. At this point in the morning, what would it matter if she actually got it? The crap they keep at the magazine is just store bought, but even still, it would do... right? Page makes a move towards the pot and notices that it's empty. They forgot to make the pot. Sure, there was only the four of them working at the magazine, but why should it be Page's job to always fill the damn coffee?
"I'm going out on assignment, Mack." Page gathered her things and headed for the door. She heard no response from him, but figured he heard her all the same. It was a Sunday after all. Most of the writers at The Driftmoore Hermetic didn't really do the whole church thing anyways, so they were probably just trying to get some extra hours in like she was. It was a calmer day than normal, but it was still a day for coffee.
10:20 AM
She took the long way to the Bean's Knees. It was a cute little shop not too far out of the way, but far enough away to give her time out of the office. Sure, she spent some time taking pictures of the town as she had most days since moving to Driftmoore, but that was something she would have done even if she wasn't trying to get out of the office. Once she made it to the coffee shop, a silly sight greeted her.
Hopping around from leg to leg, a small bird seems to dance and play in front of the Bean's Knees. Page laughs and pulls out her Leica and snaps a few well timed photos, and a video to boot. As she shoots, she notices the redhead girl from earlier accidentally open the door. She spends a few minutes shooing the animal away and eventually manages to get it out of the store. Smiling again at the sight, Page lifts her camera once more and notices a man stretched out by himself with a cup, the newspaper, and his phone. He sure seemed relaxed. Good for him, Page thought. She knew who he was, she may not have been a news journalist, but she wouldn't be much of any kind of journalist if she didn't do her homework on high profile members of such a small town as Driftmoore. Victor Primus. He was a mystery, definitely. Page snaps a picture or two of him then thinks twice about going in for coffee just yet.
She pulls the cane from her messenger bag and heads back the way she came.
12:30 PM
After a few hours of chasing some potential leads (and hopefully giving Primus the chance to go about his business without thinking a journalist was tailing him), Page walked into the Bean's Knees, happy to see he was gone. She absentmindedly clicked through a few shots she had got in the last few hours, the bird, some of the paper mills, various shops, graveyards, and other interesting landmarks she must have shot a dozen times already from various angles. It was nothing new, but that was okay to Page. She wasn't trying to win any awards. She was happy where she was at and right now, that was at the Bean's Knees getting coffee.
Primus was gone by then and the redhead behind the counter had dozed off. Poor woman, she was probably bored to death working at such a sleepy shop. She tapped on the counter for a moment to no avail. She reaches across and taps her on the shoulder and quickly she wakes up.
"Sorry! I was just... wanting some coffee," Page says seeming rather sheepish from waking the woman up. At the same time, she starts scanning through her pictures again, wondering if she might have missed anything out of the ordinary.
"Sorry, being a barista is arduous work. Nodding off comes with the territory." Page hears the woman make the joke, she actually thinks it's pretty funny, but she was absorbed in her camera at the moment. It wasn't that she didn't like the joke, she just... that picture, of the mill... it was strange, she could have sworn she saw someone standing in a window, or...
"Ma'am?" The barista called to her.
"Yes, sorry, uh... green tea frap with two shots of watermelon please, whipped cream on top?" She handed over a five and then went back to her camera. It was probably just her imagination. The pictures of the mill were pretty damn normal, not a man in a window that she could see.
"Chalk it up to a lack of green tea," Page laughed aloud.
1:30 PM
Page drops her frap cup into a trash can and thanks the barista one last time. Tasked with going back to work with the pictures she took or procrastinating by getting a proper lunch... Page chose lunch. She had a noodle place she absolutely loved. The cook never got her order wrong and that had bought her absolute loyalty.
She orders quickly and then sits for a brief moment. For a second, she turns at just the right angle and sees the cook staring out of the kitchen at the customers. She didn't seem much younger than Page herself, only a few years maybe. She ate her food quickly, paid, then told the waiter to giver her compliments to the chef, leaving an extra tip on the table and nodding as she left.
2:00 PM
Page heads back to work, uploads copies of her images off her camera, then heads towards home.
5:00 PM
Page breathes deeply as she lays on her couch, unsure of what to do with the rest of the day. She hadn't needed her cane all that much and the pictures she had taken were all more or less fairly normal, despite that brief scare she had with the paper mill shots. It was a fun day, fairly normal, all things considered.
She went down to the main lobby and checked her mail. She'd forgotten to do it when she first came in. Luckily, there was nothing waiting for her, not even a package, but someone had baked brownies and left a tray of them at the front desk. Page hesitated for a moment. She was in her pajamas, not a soul in sight, but an oddly placed plate of brownies just happened to be waiting for her to take some? Morbidly, she thought to herself, well I've never been roofied before, and grabbed two brownies. She makes sure to lock her apartment up before eating either of them.
Still, she had to hand it to whoever made them. Roofie or not, they were delicious.
9:00 PM
The day comes to a close. Page breathes a humorous sigh of relief that the brownies were definitely normal, slides off the couch, turns off the TV, then finds her way under the covers of her bed. She'd be getting up a little earlier than she had today, she could tell. That internal alarm clock of hers was too well timed. Perhaps... 6:15? She figured it wouldn't hurt to guess, mostly as a small game to play with herself.
Eventually, Page soon dozed off, peacefully, quietly.
- - -
Moss. Red moss. It clung to her, seemed to dig into the empty space between her arms and legs, around her neck, braiding itself through her hair. It felt like hands, fingers pressing her back against the wall, telling her to stay asleep, to wake up, to stay put, to move.
In an instant, she fell forward, ripping at the moss around her. She felt her hair tug against the moss and it throws her off balance... no, that's not what does it. It was her knee, she knew it had to be her knee. It felt stronger, more capable. She hadn't felt like that since before that game.
She twisted at the last second, unsure of how to feel about her knee's renewed strength. Losing her balance, a clatter of pots and pans rang out from what she now recognized was a kitchen. She'd been back here before when she first moved into town. Mack had wanted her to get a taste for the local life and the Cove was the place to go for a great dinner. The kitchen had been part of her tour. She'd only ever been back there the once, but still... she knew the place without a doubt.
Ignoring the clatter, Page got to her feet and saw her camera waiting for her. That wasn't all. Next to it sat a bloodied knife. The two being together did not bode well for her. She watched crime dramas, she wasn't about to touch that knife, not for a second. She did, however, grab her camera. Maybe it knew how she had ended up in the Cove and why the whole place was absolutely defunct and run down. What she needed was answers.
With her head buried in her camera, Page stepped out of the kitchen and into the main dining area. A fair few familiar faces saw her before she saw them.