[bc] 031 - silence
She never quite could get to the silence she wanted.
Noise in the night bothered Valkyrie, making her a miserable sleeper. She’d been raised to yearn for quiet, for the few and brief golden hours when Father was out on a call or asleep in bed…when the danger was past and she was free to vanish into sweet dreams or complete oblivion. She didn’t have childhood nightmares…she lived hers.
The nightmares didn’t start until after she came to be adopted.
It was a particularly violent nightmare that woke her in the dead of night, so vivid she could still feel the stripes on her back, the resulting needles in her arm and the acrid smell of a hospital in her nostrils.
The quiet soothed her…total, blissful silence. Not even the house was settling.
Rising from her bed, clad in her usual pajamas (boy short panties and a camisole), she left her hair down to be sure her scars were covered as she padded out of her room and headed for the kitchen.
No life stirred, not even Cain…when he was in bed, she knew it was late. Their houseguests were out as well, giving her enough of a sense of security to roam the house in her pajamas without fear of being seen in the nourishing safety of the quiet. Billie was finally herself again, and all parties had been forgiven for their role in helping her get through the worst of her detox.
She ruminated on the irony of it as she tracked down the Tylenol in the cabinet above the sink, then went to get a glass of water and the plate of leftover chicken still in the fridge. Strange that the deadliest silence should be such a comfort when she saw it so often, felt its weight every day she saw the end of yet another life.
As she puttered around the kitchen, fixing herself a chicken sandwich, Valkyrie realized that it was an odd thing to work in death and be comforted by it.
A lot had changed since she’d found her family, and her opinion of people was greatly improved…but she couldn’t shake that belief that in life, there was just too much chance to get hurt to take much comfort in the sounds of the world turning.
She’d sleep when she was dead…but until then, she’d sleep to the sounds of the dead. Sweet, eternal silence.
Muse: Valkyrie Callahan
Fandom: Temporary Insanity
Words: 402
Noise in the night bothered Valkyrie, making her a miserable sleeper. She’d been raised to yearn for quiet, for the few and brief golden hours when Father was out on a call or asleep in bed…when the danger was past and she was free to vanish into sweet dreams or complete oblivion. She didn’t have childhood nightmares…she lived hers.
The nightmares didn’t start until after she came to be adopted.
It was a particularly violent nightmare that woke her in the dead of night, so vivid she could still feel the stripes on her back, the resulting needles in her arm and the acrid smell of a hospital in her nostrils.
The quiet soothed her…total, blissful silence. Not even the house was settling.
Rising from her bed, clad in her usual pajamas (boy short panties and a camisole), she left her hair down to be sure her scars were covered as she padded out of her room and headed for the kitchen.
No life stirred, not even Cain…when he was in bed, she knew it was late. Their houseguests were out as well, giving her enough of a sense of security to roam the house in her pajamas without fear of being seen in the nourishing safety of the quiet. Billie was finally herself again, and all parties had been forgiven for their role in helping her get through the worst of her detox.
She ruminated on the irony of it as she tracked down the Tylenol in the cabinet above the sink, then went to get a glass of water and the plate of leftover chicken still in the fridge. Strange that the deadliest silence should be such a comfort when she saw it so often, felt its weight every day she saw the end of yet another life.
As she puttered around the kitchen, fixing herself a chicken sandwich, Valkyrie realized that it was an odd thing to work in death and be comforted by it.
A lot had changed since she’d found her family, and her opinion of people was greatly improved…but she couldn’t shake that belief that in life, there was just too much chance to get hurt to take much comfort in the sounds of the world turning.
She’d sleep when she was dead…but until then, she’d sleep to the sounds of the dead. Sweet, eternal silence.
Muse: Valkyrie Callahan
Fandom: Temporary Insanity
Words: 402