Jan 11, 2009 22:04
Tick.
Tick.
Tick
That was the worst thing. The time. Never knowing when it was.
Hours turned into days, days into weeks, weeks into months, months into... who knew?
Tick.
Tick.
Tick
Pacing helped, if only for a short time. Energy burned off in the form of exercise. Control. A way to control her environment.
Tick
They moved her to a smaller cell.
Tick
She was aware her sense of smell changed over time. She was aware she stank, but over time, she could stand it. Time.
She had all the time in the world.
Tick.
Sleeping on the floor had become second nature. Curled up, tightly, as much warmth as she could gain from herself.
Tick
The worst part struck her one day, a massive sense of loss.
The loss of hope. It didn't happen all at once, but crept up over time. It seeped out of her, drip, drip, drip, like a leaky tap.
Until one day it was utterly gone. No hope left, no chance of a normal life.
Tock.
A key in the door. A figure in a greatcoat.
Hope restored.
Toshiko Sato
Torchwood
Word Count: 182
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