Post by Roan on Jan 31, 2011 3:54:30 GMT -5
{Worthless post? I think so. But keeping this moving, so yay! Continued the morning after here as that thread has outlived it's usefulness.}
Waking up from a nightmare, realizing it isn’t real, is supposed to be a moment of profound relief. When truth creeps back into dark holes it’s supposed to bring calm and reassurance. For Roan, waking from her subconscious didn’t heal wounds torn open again to bleed afresh. Like toxic waste it polluted her mind and that pollution didn’t ooze away with the morning sunlight. There could be no calm and relief found in the bare flat of Anil’s. Instead only the uselessness of her situation could fill gaping holes.
After a night of thrashing, crying, and pleading she finally found herself laying flat on the couch with eyes focused on the ceiling. They were clouded by unshed tears that she willed in place. Too many had already been shed for this travesty she called her life and no more would be but the woman could not find the will to move her hand the two inches it would take to dash them away. Every muscle was dead weight. Again in her dreams they had not stirred to stop her from killing Phugsius and charring Muryllis to ash. Why should they move even now?
Acute hearing let her know that Anil was moving in his bedroom, but she tried to ignore his presence entirely. There was a sickening feeling in her stomach that he could have heard her restlessly fighting in her dreams the night before. No more did Roan want this half-stranger of a man to see her broken but there was no glue to put the pieces back together yet. So far all she had done was gather them in one place by finally admitting to someone what had happened. And all Anil had done was again offer her a place to sleep and say they’d talk about it in the morning. Maddening, all he was being was confusing and maddening.
The door to his bedroom opened and finally there was some instinctual movement in her body. Her body curled in on herself and she pulled the blanket over her head to grant her some shield from facing him yet. The drying tears caused an irritating feeling on her skin but she didn’t want to move and let him know she was awake yet. This ‘talk’ they were going to have wasn’t bound to bring her any relief. What possible outcomes could there be? He’d have gotten a night’s sleep now and would probably be clear headed enough to see keeping her here and treating her well was nothing but folly. No, he’s probably going to offer tea or breakfast. And you’re going to stand there like a moron and demand he be his usual asshole self. Her mind muttered darkly at her but she just shushed it and focused instead on the sound of him moving about.
It didn’t matter if he had a ten course breakfast though there was nothing beyond that blue blanket fort worth it to face. Be it the end or the beginning of the day she still had no home and nobody who really cared to run to. There was still blood on her hands to be accounted for. Closing her eyes and drifting off would bring more screams and sweats but moving would bring that ‘talk’. So at a stupid impasse Roan just focused on the sounds in the room. Please don’t acknowledge me. Just let me die here… She pleaded silently in her mind, as useless as it was.
Waking up from a nightmare, realizing it isn’t real, is supposed to be a moment of profound relief. When truth creeps back into dark holes it’s supposed to bring calm and reassurance. For Roan, waking from her subconscious didn’t heal wounds torn open again to bleed afresh. Like toxic waste it polluted her mind and that pollution didn’t ooze away with the morning sunlight. There could be no calm and relief found in the bare flat of Anil’s. Instead only the uselessness of her situation could fill gaping holes.
After a night of thrashing, crying, and pleading she finally found herself laying flat on the couch with eyes focused on the ceiling. They were clouded by unshed tears that she willed in place. Too many had already been shed for this travesty she called her life and no more would be but the woman could not find the will to move her hand the two inches it would take to dash them away. Every muscle was dead weight. Again in her dreams they had not stirred to stop her from killing Phugsius and charring Muryllis to ash. Why should they move even now?
Acute hearing let her know that Anil was moving in his bedroom, but she tried to ignore his presence entirely. There was a sickening feeling in her stomach that he could have heard her restlessly fighting in her dreams the night before. No more did Roan want this half-stranger of a man to see her broken but there was no glue to put the pieces back together yet. So far all she had done was gather them in one place by finally admitting to someone what had happened. And all Anil had done was again offer her a place to sleep and say they’d talk about it in the morning. Maddening, all he was being was confusing and maddening.
The door to his bedroom opened and finally there was some instinctual movement in her body. Her body curled in on herself and she pulled the blanket over her head to grant her some shield from facing him yet. The drying tears caused an irritating feeling on her skin but she didn’t want to move and let him know she was awake yet. This ‘talk’ they were going to have wasn’t bound to bring her any relief. What possible outcomes could there be? He’d have gotten a night’s sleep now and would probably be clear headed enough to see keeping her here and treating her well was nothing but folly. No, he’s probably going to offer tea or breakfast. And you’re going to stand there like a moron and demand he be his usual asshole self. Her mind muttered darkly at her but she just shushed it and focused instead on the sound of him moving about.
It didn’t matter if he had a ten course breakfast though there was nothing beyond that blue blanket fort worth it to face. Be it the end or the beginning of the day she still had no home and nobody who really cared to run to. There was still blood on her hands to be accounted for. Closing her eyes and drifting off would bring more screams and sweats but moving would bring that ‘talk’. So at a stupid impasse Roan just focused on the sounds in the room. Please don’t acknowledge me. Just let me die here… She pleaded silently in her mind, as useless as it was.