(no subject)
What!? She wrote something!?
Yeah, I realized last night that
mindrot gets home in a few days and I really, really want this to be finished by the time she gets here, so I'm dedicating today to writing as much as possible.
This is just a little bit, more to come.
The shortness of breath was hard to keep up with. She'd lost track of time in the moments from running and screaming to the entrance into present tense. It felt like months since the last time she'd been conscious. It could have been, sometimes time passed like that here, especially with Jenna.
Jenna fucked everything up. No one who remembered could even talk about the last time. All the Children knew was that Lisha had become Jenna because she was no longer able to control her inner demon, and that Jenna did things, evil things, that even years later Terra could not come to terms with. She had tortured and killed and destroyed everything and everyone she could, until the Angel had come and rescued them. Terra had put up a fight, but was nearly destroyed, just as she was now. Now, Terra lay with nearly nothing remaining of her left arm, and the rest of her wasn't doing much better.
When she finally rose, she was quite certain she'd been asleep for weeks, or months, or years. She was never going to get that time back. She limped forward, her right arm clutching her shoulder. No one remained, the house was empty. She stumbled through the hallway, checking every room as she made her way towards the end. She could see several trails of blood leading both to and away from Miranda's door. The great white antique wood and frame loomed over her as she approached and reached her right hand, which could only be considered her good hand in light of what remained of the other, for the doorknob. Slowly, she opened the chipped, creaking door and stepped inside, up the stairs and onto the first platform, from which she could see over the railing to the first floor below.
She focused her attention on the door to what she had thought, what could have been hours or years before, was the Control Room, and had ended up being nothing more than an unfinished addition full of hidden photographs and memories and a wall that led to one of the many environments of the house. Every door and window showed a different scene. The Children's picture windows overlooked a great swamp and forest, Rain's great window walls showed an urban field of asphalt and steel. From the library's small high window one could view the old Children's graves, and from the empty wall in Miranda's Unfinished Room one could walk out and stand on top of prairie shore and see the ocean spread out before them.
Terra made her way down the stairs to the first floor of the room, listening carefully for anything around her as she followed the ominous streams of red from step to step. She leaned against the table as she passed it and felt her legs give out from under her for a moment. She hopped forward to the door for balance's sake and half leaned, half pulled on the door as she turned the knob and eased her head in, her blue hair streaked with red and her right eye, the brown one, red with broken vessels. She peered with her good, green eye into the maze of wooden framing, plastic sheets, and support beams. Beyond this and the empty space between stone foundation and ceiling beams that should have been the far wall, Terra thought she saw a figure disappearing over the large dune that blocked most of the view of the ocean from just inside the door to the empty room. She continued to walk in the only way she could manage, dragging one leg she was sure must be broken with another the was missing most of it's skin for the scratches and scrapes and pulling herself along with the one arm that was still mostly there.
As she reached the would-be-wall she paused, the warm ocean breeze blew would have felt disalarmingly comforting if it weren't brushing sand into her wounds. She saw nothing that raised the hairs on her neck and yet her senses were taught and her eyes half-closed against the sun as she continued to stare out along the shore. She couldn't see over the dune but she stepped forward slowly. Making it up the small gradient full of burr marigolds and purple loosestrife was possibly one of the most difficult tasks of her life as the sea salt and sand burrowed into her and what was left of her limbs begged for release from the strain of the slight incline and her joints threatened to buckle and give.
As she reached the top of the dune she stood straight and peered down the hill. To those below she looked as threatening and formidable as anyone had ever seen, her ragged clothing blowing in the wind, the blood dripping from her features and fingertips and a fierce, determined look radiating from her eyes. One would have thought she could take on the world in that moment, or that she had just returned from attempting to, until she fell to her knees. She winced appropriately as the gravel and sand dug into her battered knees, fell into a great dramatic faint and rolled down the concave edge of the dune to Miranda's feet.
Yeah, I realized last night that
mindrot gets home in a few days and I really, really want this to be finished by the time she gets here, so I'm dedicating today to writing as much as possible.
This is just a little bit, more to come.
The shortness of breath was hard to keep up with. She'd lost track of time in the moments from running and screaming to the entrance into present tense. It felt like months since the last time she'd been conscious. It could have been, sometimes time passed like that here, especially with Jenna.
Jenna fucked everything up. No one who remembered could even talk about the last time. All the Children knew was that Lisha had become Jenna because she was no longer able to control her inner demon, and that Jenna did things, evil things, that even years later Terra could not come to terms with. She had tortured and killed and destroyed everything and everyone she could, until the Angel had come and rescued them. Terra had put up a fight, but was nearly destroyed, just as she was now. Now, Terra lay with nearly nothing remaining of her left arm, and the rest of her wasn't doing much better.
When she finally rose, she was quite certain she'd been asleep for weeks, or months, or years. She was never going to get that time back. She limped forward, her right arm clutching her shoulder. No one remained, the house was empty. She stumbled through the hallway, checking every room as she made her way towards the end. She could see several trails of blood leading both to and away from Miranda's door. The great white antique wood and frame loomed over her as she approached and reached her right hand, which could only be considered her good hand in light of what remained of the other, for the doorknob. Slowly, she opened the chipped, creaking door and stepped inside, up the stairs and onto the first platform, from which she could see over the railing to the first floor below.
She focused her attention on the door to what she had thought, what could have been hours or years before, was the Control Room, and had ended up being nothing more than an unfinished addition full of hidden photographs and memories and a wall that led to one of the many environments of the house. Every door and window showed a different scene. The Children's picture windows overlooked a great swamp and forest, Rain's great window walls showed an urban field of asphalt and steel. From the library's small high window one could view the old Children's graves, and from the empty wall in Miranda's Unfinished Room one could walk out and stand on top of prairie shore and see the ocean spread out before them.
Terra made her way down the stairs to the first floor of the room, listening carefully for anything around her as she followed the ominous streams of red from step to step. She leaned against the table as she passed it and felt her legs give out from under her for a moment. She hopped forward to the door for balance's sake and half leaned, half pulled on the door as she turned the knob and eased her head in, her blue hair streaked with red and her right eye, the brown one, red with broken vessels. She peered with her good, green eye into the maze of wooden framing, plastic sheets, and support beams. Beyond this and the empty space between stone foundation and ceiling beams that should have been the far wall, Terra thought she saw a figure disappearing over the large dune that blocked most of the view of the ocean from just inside the door to the empty room. She continued to walk in the only way she could manage, dragging one leg she was sure must be broken with another the was missing most of it's skin for the scratches and scrapes and pulling herself along with the one arm that was still mostly there.
As she reached the would-be-wall she paused, the warm ocean breeze blew would have felt disalarmingly comforting if it weren't brushing sand into her wounds. She saw nothing that raised the hairs on her neck and yet her senses were taught and her eyes half-closed against the sun as she continued to stare out along the shore. She couldn't see over the dune but she stepped forward slowly. Making it up the small gradient full of burr marigolds and purple loosestrife was possibly one of the most difficult tasks of her life as the sea salt and sand burrowed into her and what was left of her limbs begged for release from the strain of the slight incline and her joints threatened to buckle and give.
As she reached the top of the dune she stood straight and peered down the hill. To those below she looked as threatening and formidable as anyone had ever seen, her ragged clothing blowing in the wind, the blood dripping from her features and fingertips and a fierce, determined look radiating from her eyes. One would have thought she could take on the world in that moment, or that she had just returned from attempting to, until she fell to her knees. She winced appropriately as the gravel and sand dug into her battered knees, fell into a great dramatic faint and rolled down the concave edge of the dune to Miranda's feet.