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Insane
"In my own little corner in my own little chair I can be whoever I want to be."
There's girls, she thinks.
All sorts of girls that can do all sorts of amazing things and none of them end up in caves. Castles, sure. Lots of them actually. And towers and dungeons and under glass and wearing it too, and sometimes just outside the caves. But they never go in because they know better or some else knows better but there's always knowing and that is better than not.
Oh, and the sleeping. So many of them sleeping through so much. She's forgotten what a full night's rest feels like, all safe and warm and she's pretty sure somewhere her body's had it before because it seems content to be discontent with what it has now. What tastes like not dry with anticipation for the next time they find her, not feeling the hurts, not thinking through the night and jumping at every little sound.
They have names, the vowels and sounds of them flit about bugs, picking at bits of her in an annoying sort of way. They're here, they seem to be saying, so give a little notice. But the minute she does they fly out of reach, startled.
She thinks there's one that is always being tested, always being pushed. She has a strange name and is always sleeping in the oddest places and on the oddest things. She seems worth liking.
She seems strong.
There's something at the end they always find, and she feels like she's always reaching for it. Even as she can't exactly remember what it is. The pictures are there, of course. Bright colors and glowing smiles. But sometimes they get more and more real and the faces fade into something that looks a little bit like her own reflection in the water. Ir's probably the most worrisome.
Because somehow that's the scariest thing of all.
There's girls, she thinks.
All sorts of girls that can do all sorts of amazing things and none of them end up in caves. Castles, sure. Lots of them actually. And towers and dungeons and under glass and wearing it too, and sometimes just outside the caves. But they never go in because they know better or some else knows better but there's always knowing and that is better than not.
Oh, and the sleeping. So many of them sleeping through so much. She's forgotten what a full night's rest feels like, all safe and warm and she's pretty sure somewhere her body's had it before because it seems content to be discontent with what it has now. What tastes like not dry with anticipation for the next time they find her, not feeling the hurts, not thinking through the night and jumping at every little sound.
They have names, the vowels and sounds of them flit about bugs, picking at bits of her in an annoying sort of way. They're here, they seem to be saying, so give a little notice. But the minute she does they fly out of reach, startled.
She thinks there's one that is always being tested, always being pushed. She has a strange name and is always sleeping in the oddest places and on the oddest things. She seems worth liking.
She seems strong.
There's something at the end they always find, and she feels like she's always reaching for it. Even as she can't exactly remember what it is. The pictures are there, of course. Bright colors and glowing smiles. But sometimes they get more and more real and the faces fade into something that looks a little bit like her own reflection in the water. Ir's probably the most worrisome.
Because somehow that's the scariest thing of all.
Sneak attack!
Re: Sneak attack!