(no subject)
She lays on the floor in the room, reading her latest book. She becomes lost in the story, absorbing the words and transforming them into pictures in her head.
Rumble.
She only half notices the small rumble that just shook up the walls as the picture pauses for a moment, she pulls her eyes off the book and looks up. Hmmm, did the wall just moan? Listening for a moment longer, she hears nothing and returns to the story.
Rumble.
There is was again. This time she flips the book down and scans around the room. Nothing appears to be out of place. Her bed looks the same. Her posters, her books, her movies, nothing seems off. Sitting up this time she listens more intently. Rumble, rumble. There is definitely something going on here.
She vaguely recalls hearing this sort of creaking in the past. The noise, the vibrations, they never last for long. This room has always kept her. For as long as she can remember, she has been in this room. Every now and then a memory struggles to push through her mind revealing a moment spent out of here, but nothing solid. She loves the room. She has everything she needs and some things she wants. There is comfort here and that is what matters most.
She looks out the window, much as she has done in the past. She notices nothing out of the ordinary. Lifting the window up she pops her head out. The air is cold and dark. Funny it doesn't look like this from inside. To the left and to the right, there is no sign of what is causing this shaking.
A passerby stops and waves. She waves back and asks about the weather. Awfully cold out isn't it? The stranger gives a polite, it sure is, but no colder than normal. Often she has these meaningless exchanges out the window. She finds that no matter who she speaks to or what is discussed, nobody ever sees things the same as she does. Supposing that the room is a far better place to be, she pushes the thought out of her mind. She begins to shiver from the outside atmosphere and pulls her head back inside, dropping the window down behind her.
Rumble, rumble, rumble. She is starting to get worried, frightened even. Now books are falling off the shelves. Cautiously moving across the room she tries picking up the books off the floor. Rumble, rumble, rumble. She notices the shaking is getting worse and more frequent. Rumble, rumble, rumble. The floor is becoming to unstable to stand upon. She flops onto her bed grabbing her pillow and holds to it.
Looking up, rumble, rumble, rumble rumble. Is that a crack in the ceiling? As she focuses her sight upon the crack, pieces of plaster begin breaking off and falling to the floor. What is going on? Why is this happening? She glances out the window again and sees people walking by. They appear to be undistrubed by the violence of the shaking. They don't look like they even notice.
Rumble, rumble, rumble - now the walls are starting to peel back from the ceiling. The ceiling is now gone. The gaping hole allows her to glimpse the sky above. Dark clouds and a strong breeze whirl over her head. Chunks of the wall now rain down. Soon the floor is littered with plaster and paint and wood. Ceiling and walls are now floor. She is corned up on the bed and is afraid to step off. She is helpless and can do nothing. All she can do is sit there and watch as her walls fall down around her.
Rumble.
She only half notices the small rumble that just shook up the walls as the picture pauses for a moment, she pulls her eyes off the book and looks up. Hmmm, did the wall just moan? Listening for a moment longer, she hears nothing and returns to the story.
Rumble.
There is was again. This time she flips the book down and scans around the room. Nothing appears to be out of place. Her bed looks the same. Her posters, her books, her movies, nothing seems off. Sitting up this time she listens more intently. Rumble, rumble. There is definitely something going on here.
She vaguely recalls hearing this sort of creaking in the past. The noise, the vibrations, they never last for long. This room has always kept her. For as long as she can remember, she has been in this room. Every now and then a memory struggles to push through her mind revealing a moment spent out of here, but nothing solid. She loves the room. She has everything she needs and some things she wants. There is comfort here and that is what matters most.
She looks out the window, much as she has done in the past. She notices nothing out of the ordinary. Lifting the window up she pops her head out. The air is cold and dark. Funny it doesn't look like this from inside. To the left and to the right, there is no sign of what is causing this shaking.
A passerby stops and waves. She waves back and asks about the weather. Awfully cold out isn't it? The stranger gives a polite, it sure is, but no colder than normal. Often she has these meaningless exchanges out the window. She finds that no matter who she speaks to or what is discussed, nobody ever sees things the same as she does. Supposing that the room is a far better place to be, she pushes the thought out of her mind. She begins to shiver from the outside atmosphere and pulls her head back inside, dropping the window down behind her.
Rumble, rumble, rumble. She is starting to get worried, frightened even. Now books are falling off the shelves. Cautiously moving across the room she tries picking up the books off the floor. Rumble, rumble, rumble. She notices the shaking is getting worse and more frequent. Rumble, rumble, rumble. The floor is becoming to unstable to stand upon. She flops onto her bed grabbing her pillow and holds to it.
Looking up, rumble, rumble, rumble rumble. Is that a crack in the ceiling? As she focuses her sight upon the crack, pieces of plaster begin breaking off and falling to the floor. What is going on? Why is this happening? She glances out the window again and sees people walking by. They appear to be undistrubed by the violence of the shaking. They don't look like they even notice.
Rumble, rumble, rumble - now the walls are starting to peel back from the ceiling. The ceiling is now gone. The gaping hole allows her to glimpse the sky above. Dark clouds and a strong breeze whirl over her head. Chunks of the wall now rain down. Soon the floor is littered with plaster and paint and wood. Ceiling and walls are now floor. She is corned up on the bed and is afraid to step off. She is helpless and can do nothing. All she can do is sit there and watch as her walls fall down around her.