theatrical_muse: sleepy. [ch. 222]
Sleeping on the couch
[Ficlette]
There was something about lounging on the couch in the middle of the day that appealed to Sophie, as she didn't have to move a muscle to enjoy the spacious room around her, or the happenings outside the window, or maybe she'd close her eyes and relax.
After the scandal that had shown up in the newspapers, concerning her Father and his old mistress (Miss Sugar), there was nothing for her to do in the afternoons any longer; no lunches with rich oldies, no lunch dates with young women of her class, no paperwork, no...nothing. And it was odd, to feel so..powerless over gossip.
Sophie had fallen asleep where she was lounging, the lack of sleep during her nights was getting to her; she had a habit now of falling asleep if left alone, in a quiet, warm environment. It had almost become a routine, these little cat naps, where she would turn her face to the sunlight and bathe herself in it.
But, nevertheless, dreams didn't fall short of becoming nightmares when she rested this way; arms over her head, legs dangling off the edge of the couch, she almost looked like a vagabond of some sort. Sophie's mind loved to play tricks on her, ever since she was a child, she'd constantly wet her bed and feel sick.
Sophie. Sophie.
A voice reverberated through her mind, it sounded like a mans, one she could vaguely place but it sounded oddly familiar to her. Then, it dawned on her: that was her FATHER.
Sophie, darling. Wake up. Wake up.
Eyes darted back and forth underneath closed eyelids as tears began to stream down her face, the crude image of her Father in her mind was coming in clearer, closer...threatening her.
Sophie. Wake! His hands closed around her little neck, she was just a mere six-year-old, crying for her life, telling her Father she was sorry that she left him, that she was happy with Miss Sugar and not him. Oh Papa! She was so sorry!
You did this to me, Sophie. You did this! His angry voice would echo through her skull, and a whimpering cry left her parted, pale lips. She could feel her breath leaving her as he choked her, cursed her, told her everything was her fault.
Screaming, Sophie awoke, "Papa no!!" She sobbed, eyes opening as fast as ever, getting rid of his image in her mind, the smell of his cigars on her clothing and his cold, dead hands around her throat.
Sophie never slept in the parlor room ever again. She barely slept at all anymore.
Muse: Sophie Rackham
Fandom: The Crimson Petal and the White
Word Count: 438
[Ficlette]
There was something about lounging on the couch in the middle of the day that appealed to Sophie, as she didn't have to move a muscle to enjoy the spacious room around her, or the happenings outside the window, or maybe she'd close her eyes and relax.
After the scandal that had shown up in the newspapers, concerning her Father and his old mistress (Miss Sugar), there was nothing for her to do in the afternoons any longer; no lunches with rich oldies, no lunch dates with young women of her class, no paperwork, no...nothing. And it was odd, to feel so..powerless over gossip.
Sophie had fallen asleep where she was lounging, the lack of sleep during her nights was getting to her; she had a habit now of falling asleep if left alone, in a quiet, warm environment. It had almost become a routine, these little cat naps, where she would turn her face to the sunlight and bathe herself in it.
But, nevertheless, dreams didn't fall short of becoming nightmares when she rested this way; arms over her head, legs dangling off the edge of the couch, she almost looked like a vagabond of some sort. Sophie's mind loved to play tricks on her, ever since she was a child, she'd constantly wet her bed and feel sick.
Sophie. Sophie.
A voice reverberated through her mind, it sounded like a mans, one she could vaguely place but it sounded oddly familiar to her. Then, it dawned on her: that was her FATHER.
Sophie, darling. Wake up. Wake up.
Eyes darted back and forth underneath closed eyelids as tears began to stream down her face, the crude image of her Father in her mind was coming in clearer, closer...threatening her.
Sophie. Wake! His hands closed around her little neck, she was just a mere six-year-old, crying for her life, telling her Father she was sorry that she left him, that she was happy with Miss Sugar and not him. Oh Papa! She was so sorry!
You did this to me, Sophie. You did this! His angry voice would echo through her skull, and a whimpering cry left her parted, pale lips. She could feel her breath leaving her as he choked her, cursed her, told her everything was her fault.
Screaming, Sophie awoke, "Papa no!!" She sobbed, eyes opening as fast as ever, getting rid of his image in her mind, the smell of his cigars on her clothing and his cold, dead hands around her throat.
Sophie never slept in the parlor room ever again. She barely slept at all anymore.
Muse: Sophie Rackham
Fandom: The Crimson Petal and the White
Word Count: 438