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Post by River Tam on Apr 14, 2011 6:47:56 GMT -5
**on the dark side of the moon**
She’s strapped down, no way to move, helpless, pressed against the faux leather of the chair, much like a dentist’s. The room is pitch black except for the spotlight aimed directly at her. From the darkness comes the evil glint of a scalpel, freshly sharpened and cleaned of blood. A sound like a strangled animal escapes her throat. The knife comes into the room, followed by a doctor in a white lab coat. Underneath the surgical mask, the man is most definitely Simon.
Four AM. When any normal person would be happily snoozing. But, River’s not exactly a normal person, by any stretch of the imagination. She awakes with a yelp, skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat.
She’d had the nightmare before, except it wasn’t her brother behind the mask, and it was real. It was a doctor at the School, some nameless, faceless madman who’d hacked into her brain. This wasn’t the first time she’d dreamt she was back in the chair, under the knife. It was never the same executioner-- that’s what she thought of the person with the knife, her executioner. No, it was always different. One time her mother, her father, her best friend, even her dog once. But this was the first time she had imagined Simon.
Without fully realizing it, she had swung her legs out of the bed, her pale skin shining in the moonlight shining in from the open window. She rises like a ghost and slips from the room, not bothering to change out of her white nightgown. She crosses her arms over her stomach, as if trying to make the memories go away. It’s almost as if she’s hugging herself, something no one had done to her in so long. And she craves it.
Her silent feet lead her to the kitchen, over to the coffee maker. Caffeine will help soothe her frazzled nerves. That, or make them much, much worse. She hopes for the former.
Grind beans, pour grounds in, add water, start. she thinks, the routine motions of coffee relaxing her, like an old friend. While she waits for the chime that says the bitter, brown liquid is done brewing, she sits down on a stool, pulling her knees to her chest and wrapping her skinny arms around her legs. Her chin rests on her right knee and she stares at her reflection in the shining, silver refrigerator.
Tangled brown hair; wide, scared eyes; skinny, anorexic-looking arms and legs; pale, pale skin. Oh, and the scar. She raises her right hand, lifting a lock of hair up and away from her temple. A thin, white line runs across her head. She sighs, not surprised, but sad that it wasn’t all a dream, that she’d just fallen asleep and dreamed her whole life. Not her whole life, per se, but the sucky parts. And god knows there’s plenty of those to go around.
But there were good parts, too. River just can’t remember any of them at the moment. The horribly bad parts are still fresh in her mind.
The coffee-maker chimes cheerfully, jolting the girl out of her thoughts. She slides off the stool and over to the counter, pulling a mug from the rack and filling it almost to the brim. She pours in a splash of milk and two sugars, then steps out of the kitchen, suddenly unable to bear to be there any longer.
She drops into a chair in the front parlor, taking a sip from her aromatically steaming beverage.
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Post by Christina Ann Robins on Apr 14, 2011 7:43:14 GMT -5
(One: I would be up at this time. RPing online in iPad hidden in my room. :3 Two: Well, let's just say this happened a day or so before I stupidly pushed my lovely little bird off a roof, shall we?) 5 AM. Who is the name of god who still has their sanity would be up at five AM? That was the only thing in world Robin was thinking as her mind sensed River's energy perk from the coffee. Robin had actually just gotten to sleep around, scratch that-- she hadn't fallen asleep. But whatever. Some ungodly person making coffee this early in the morning had decided that Robin was never going to get sleep.
Robin shuffled out of her room, braid half-undone, and gave River a long stare. Not a unkind, weird one, but more of like a 'Why? Why, God? What did I do to deserve this? stare, before making her way over to the kitchen cabinent and retreiving the brown power-mix more hot-chocolate.
(Wow. This is exactly how I feel right now. Scary.) |
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Post by River Tam on Apr 14, 2011 15:48:49 GMT -5
**on the dark side of the moon**
She doesn’t seem to notice the other girl come into the room, stare, and leave. If she does notice, she doesn’t care. She’s trapped in her own world, a world where sadness, fear, and longing take control of everything and block everything else out.
She stares into her mug, watching the swirls of not-quite-mixed coffee and milk. A tear falls from her eye, tracing a line down the side of her face, around her cheek, before falling about an inch from her chin. It lands in her mug. River doesn’t cry. Hasn’t cried since she was very little. She hadn’t even let a tear fall when she realized that no one was coming for her, that she was stuck at the school for forever and ever. And now, something as simple as a dream can bring tears to her eyes.
It was a powerful dream. She knows it can’t be true, but it terrifies her none the less.
Simon. When she used to have a bad dream, even something as easy as failing a test, or, when she was really little, monsters coming and eating her brain while she was still alive. Which almost came true-- everything but for the eating. They just cut it up into little, unusable pieces. Her brother would take her into his arms and hold her, let her cry into his shoulder, pet the back of her head, whisper sweet nothings into her ear. She longs for those days. She needs to be able to be comforted.
A sob explodes from her chest. It’s a choked sound, one of broken promises and shattered dreams.
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Post by Christina Ann Robins on Apr 14, 2011 16:14:07 GMT -5
(Whoah- jeeze. Did not expect that. XP Did you forget Robin was an empath. She's going to commit suicide at this rate. First the roof, then the river, then this? XD FUN!) ::::::::::::::::: "When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight." ::::::::::::::::: SHATTER.Robin doubled over, the mug that she had been holding slipping from her fingers and into the wood-floors, breaking like glass into twenty-two-thousand separate pieces. Her head banged against the granite counter, definitely going to leave a mark and she uttered a word in her head that you would never picture this four-teen year old ever saying.
PAIN.
Oh, yeah sure. Stepping barefoot into the glazed pieces of the mug hurt, but it was nothing compared to the... you could even call it a mental man-slaughter to her life-force. (Man, I need a more catchy name than life-force). It was terrifyingly horrible, almost worse than the wall. At least this time she didn't pass out.
Robin found the ability to straighten, one hand still tenderly clutching her head. Her eyes instantly flickered over toward River. What...? Robin almost asked if River was all-right, out of instinct, but instantly knew that that question was extremely stupid. Of course she wasn't alright. And now, the only other person in the room, Robin was handed the task of... River.
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Post by River Tam on Apr 14, 2011 16:22:44 GMT -5
**on the dark side of the moon**
River gingerly sets her still mostly full mug on a side table, as if it’s the only thing in the world that matters, keeping a mug safe. Then the waterworks begin. Not loud, sniffly tears. No, that’s not like River at all. Tears pour down her face, all the tears she had kept bottled up inside since, well, forever. And once she starts, she can’t stop.
She rolls onto her side, the arms of her chair surrounding her, her head cradled in the scoop of one arm, and sobs.
I’m going to die. she thinks. I’m going to drown in my own tears. But she doesn’t stop.
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Post by Christina Ann Robins on Apr 14, 2011 17:24:08 GMT -5
::::::::::::::::: "The best strategy when dealing with others to to know what-the-heck-you're-doing." ::::::::::::::::: Robin slowly approaches River from the side, wanting to obviously help the girl in someway. The blond reached out an arm to touch River on the shoulder, but jerked her hand back-- thinking better of it.
“Don’t touch me. Don’t EVER touch me!”
Fine, then, Robin said silently in her head, putting on a mock-bravado for no-one but herself. I won't.
Robin slid into the seat across from River, eying the sobbing girl with soft eyes. Robin put one hand on the table, tracing imaginary shapes and letters with her finger. Suddenly, Robin closed her eyes and sent blue sparks into the table.
This wasn't her life-force, oh no. Robin wasn't stupid enough to try that. Last time she had attempted to heal someone was her dog, who's heart failed. She seceded, but Robin's normally keen sight went a pitch black for days. Never again, she had vowed, to give up her life-force. This was more of... a faint pulsing.
A pulsing of emotion. A pulse of comfort that streaked through the wooden splinters of the table, and directly over to River. |
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Post by River Tam on Apr 14, 2011 17:32:43 GMT -5
**give me the wings to fly**
Comfort. Warmth. A mother’s embrace. A father’s praise. Forgiveness. It all slides toward River, seeping into her battered mind, soothing her frazzled nerves more than the caffeine did.
After a moment of this comfort, her flood of tears slows, and finally stops. She raises her head to look at Robin through blurry eyes. “I’m sorry.” she whispers. “I’m so sorry.”
She knows her emotion, as much as it hurt-- is still hurting-- her, Robin feels every bit of it. She’s not sure if it’s stronger, and hopes for the other girl’s sake that it’s not. She realizes that being around her, both for Robin and Kinkade, must be like drawing a knife constantly through your own flesh. She wonders how they ever managed.
“I’m sorry.” she whispers again.
**and the courage to fall**
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Post by Christina Ann Robins on Apr 14, 2011 18:15:01 GMT -5
:::::::::::::::::
“Healing is a delicate thing. One false step can turn things horribly wrong.”
::::::::::::::::: Robin slowly opens her eyes, yet she doesn't remove her hand from the table. Wryly, she smiles. River's emotions had been the biggest challenge yet, of her whole life, as they were constantly near one another. But still, it helped her grow. And better yet, Robin could not resent River no matter how much she tried. River's emotions were apart of her constantly, and to resent her was to resent herself.
"You don't have to be, sorry." |
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Post by River Tam on Apr 14, 2011 18:24:33 GMT -5
**give me the wings to fly**
“But I hurt you. You feel everything I feel.” Suddenly, a thought hits her. A thought that scares her. No one should know her past. It might-- probably would-- change things between them, and once one person knows, the whole school would know a twisted version of the facts. Oh, the Rumor Mill, how detestable you are.
It had happened before, when River dropped out of her school, after not learning a thing, only repeating the same things she had learned year after year, and switched to teaching herself. They had said she had committed suicide, and was in therapy. Some even said she was dead. Which was completely far from the truth.
“Do you know why I feel the way I feel?”
**and the courage to fall**
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Post by Christina Ann Robins on Apr 14, 2011 18:52:24 GMT -5
:::::::::::::::::
“Does anybody hear her? Does anybody see? Does anybody even know she's going down today?”
::::::::::::::::: Robin remained silent. This was a question she did not expect. She figured... she figured River would just know, like she always did. That maybe this girl with a tear-streaked face could even tell Robin if she knew.
Finally, after a terrible silence, Robin quietly said, "Sometimes. I feel what is there, what I can see. I don't probe, I don't search. I'm not very good at what I am, so I only see what comes to me, not what I want."
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Post by River Tam on Apr 14, 2011 19:22:27 GMT -5
**give me the wings to fly**
She nods, visibly relieved. She doesn’t know of her past.
She doesn’t know how her father sent her to the School, where she was trained, fed only high-protein, low-carb food, almost drowned, repeatedly, and placed under the knife, no anesthesia, while her brain was cut open, and then almost drowned again. She doesn't know why she won't swim, won't take a proper shower, runs from windows when it rains.
There’s a reason she’s terrified of water-- At the school, they were trying to make her the perfect weapon, an un-killable girl. They gave her medicine through IV tubes. They kept sensors on her head, her chest, her arms, legs, anywhere they could stick a little white almost band-aid. Then, they held her under the water until she passed out, then left her to float, face-up, seeing if she would die. After she almost died many times, only to be resurrected by defibrillators before she could truly die. Then, they gave her different medicines, and repeated the whole process. When nothing worked, they operated on her brain. Still, she almost died. And then she ran away. Gone forever from the school.
**and the courage to fall**
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