For Chuck and Dan
Jun. 8th, 2019 09:30 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
already_lostWhen Laura slept, she dreamed.
Her dreams, for as long as she could remember, were so vivid, often so clear and familiar, that she couldn't distinguish them from consciousness. She had memories she couldn't be sure had actually happened to her, both horrific and mundane. Evil things, greedy things, had visited her all her life in her dreams, and she often sought out the things she wasn't supposed to want during the safety of sleep.
Lifting her head, Laura wiped at her mouth, frowning at the dried piece of hay stuck to her cheek. Was she dreaming? It was dark, a glowing red flare of light piercing the blackness ahead of her, but she couldn't focus enough to tell what it was. Her vision swam, her head pounding with each heartbeat, and she prodded at her hairline with a wince. Her fingertips came away stained with her own blood.
"Am I dreaming?" She murmured to herself, swaying woozily as she pushed herself upright. She sat, wearing the pajamas she'd slept in the night before. It had been cold, even piled under blankets, and she'd burrowed under the covers in an oversized sweatshirt belonging to Chuck, and a pair of flannel pajama pants. Now, she was burning up, sweat prickling at the back of her neck. Groaning, she plucked at the front of her sweatshirt, peeling it away from her body, scrambling up onto her knees and shuffling forward until she was pressed against the bars of her cage.
A cage.
"Oh my God," she moaned, rattling the bars weakly. They were heavy, rusted metal, too narrow for her to fit through, and beyond, there was a huge, raging fire... A coal burning stove.
"Oh my God," she wailed, yanking harder on the bars, an angry sob caught in her throat. "Hello! Hello! Is anyone there? Hello! Let me out of here! Oh please, God, let me out!"
Her dreams, for as long as she could remember, were so vivid, often so clear and familiar, that she couldn't distinguish them from consciousness. She had memories she couldn't be sure had actually happened to her, both horrific and mundane. Evil things, greedy things, had visited her all her life in her dreams, and she often sought out the things she wasn't supposed to want during the safety of sleep.
Lifting her head, Laura wiped at her mouth, frowning at the dried piece of hay stuck to her cheek. Was she dreaming? It was dark, a glowing red flare of light piercing the blackness ahead of her, but she couldn't focus enough to tell what it was. Her vision swam, her head pounding with each heartbeat, and she prodded at her hairline with a wince. Her fingertips came away stained with her own blood.
"Am I dreaming?" She murmured to herself, swaying woozily as she pushed herself upright. She sat, wearing the pajamas she'd slept in the night before. It had been cold, even piled under blankets, and she'd burrowed under the covers in an oversized sweatshirt belonging to Chuck, and a pair of flannel pajama pants. Now, she was burning up, sweat prickling at the back of her neck. Groaning, she plucked at the front of her sweatshirt, peeling it away from her body, scrambling up onto her knees and shuffling forward until she was pressed against the bars of her cage.
A cage.
"Oh my God," she moaned, rattling the bars weakly. They were heavy, rusted metal, too narrow for her to fit through, and beyond, there was a huge, raging fire... A coal burning stove.
"Oh my God," she wailed, yanking harder on the bars, an angry sob caught in her throat. "Hello! Hello! Is anyone there? Hello! Let me out of here! Oh please, God, let me out!"
