Rent Challenge
Title: Memento Mori
Author: boho_writer
Rating: G
Word Count: 550
Summary: Mark's thoughts once the lights fade out. Pre-Rent.
Disclaimer: The characters of Rent are not my own. Oh, and the title is taken from an X-Files episode and means "Remember you will die."
Some nights I awaken with a start, my conscious self chasing the tail end of dreams that, after a moment of reality, are lost to the archives of my psyche. On those nights-engulfed by the darkness of my room-I sit for a moment, hearing only the sound of my racing heart and labored breathing. Unlike most people, the panic doesn’t recede once I awaken; rather, it intensifies because I am back in reality, and it is here, not my dreams, where I face my greatest fears.
I hate the darkness during those times. Well, I’ve hated the darkness my whole life, really, but what twenty-something sleeps with a nightlight in New York City? Right. I fumble for my lamp, put on my glasses, and feel somewhat better once it is on and I can see clearly.
I don’t know what it is that scares me so badly. I know parts of it, but even a psych 101 class teaches you that all parts lead to a bigger, more complicated whole. Maybe I do know what it is, but I don’t want to face it, even though I know that one day I’ll have to.
Fully awake now, I remember that I have to check on Roger. I creep from my room, cross the loft, and gently push open his door. There I stand in the doorway, holding my breath until I see his chest rise and fall, hear his steady breathing. I sigh; I know he’s all right. Back when Collins lived with us, and before Roger got sick, I’d do the same for him. I just had to make sure that nothing had happened during the past four hours. I close Roger’s door, and with a notable feeling of relief, return to my room.
I’m so afraid of losing them, especially Roger. Everyone dies, yeah, but it’s harder when you can see the minutes ticking away on your best friend’s face. I don’t tell him what I’m thinking-how scared I am of losing him, how scared I’ve been since he found out he was positive, the night April died-because I know it won’t help him. I have to be strong, right? Convince him things’ll be okay. And I do. I put on a strong front while he hides from the world, and I act like things are normal. I remind him to take his AZT and make sure we have something healthy for him to eat, treating it like a common cold. At times, I almost fool myself into thinking it’s not so bad, and that I really am that brave.
And then the darkness comes, and I can’t see to find my mask.
I climb into my bed, and fall back to sleep with the light on. When Roger notices it in the morning, I’ll tell him I fell asleep reading, and he'll chide me for wasting electricity. It’s happening so often, though, I don’t think he believes me anymore. But its morning and I can smile and offer to find us some breakfast and maybe he’d like to come with me, down to the fruit kiosk on the corner? And I’ll leave alone, knowing I’ve got at least fifteen hours before I have to fight my way to sleep once more. Fifteen hours before I have to face the darkness.
Author: boho_writer
Rating: G
Word Count: 550
Summary: Mark's thoughts once the lights fade out. Pre-Rent.
Disclaimer: The characters of Rent are not my own. Oh, and the title is taken from an X-Files episode and means "Remember you will die."
Some nights I awaken with a start, my conscious self chasing the tail end of dreams that, after a moment of reality, are lost to the archives of my psyche. On those nights-engulfed by the darkness of my room-I sit for a moment, hearing only the sound of my racing heart and labored breathing. Unlike most people, the panic doesn’t recede once I awaken; rather, it intensifies because I am back in reality, and it is here, not my dreams, where I face my greatest fears.
I hate the darkness during those times. Well, I’ve hated the darkness my whole life, really, but what twenty-something sleeps with a nightlight in New York City? Right. I fumble for my lamp, put on my glasses, and feel somewhat better once it is on and I can see clearly.
I don’t know what it is that scares me so badly. I know parts of it, but even a psych 101 class teaches you that all parts lead to a bigger, more complicated whole. Maybe I do know what it is, but I don’t want to face it, even though I know that one day I’ll have to.
Fully awake now, I remember that I have to check on Roger. I creep from my room, cross the loft, and gently push open his door. There I stand in the doorway, holding my breath until I see his chest rise and fall, hear his steady breathing. I sigh; I know he’s all right. Back when Collins lived with us, and before Roger got sick, I’d do the same for him. I just had to make sure that nothing had happened during the past four hours. I close Roger’s door, and with a notable feeling of relief, return to my room.
I’m so afraid of losing them, especially Roger. Everyone dies, yeah, but it’s harder when you can see the minutes ticking away on your best friend’s face. I don’t tell him what I’m thinking-how scared I am of losing him, how scared I’ve been since he found out he was positive, the night April died-because I know it won’t help him. I have to be strong, right? Convince him things’ll be okay. And I do. I put on a strong front while he hides from the world, and I act like things are normal. I remind him to take his AZT and make sure we have something healthy for him to eat, treating it like a common cold. At times, I almost fool myself into thinking it’s not so bad, and that I really am that brave.
And then the darkness comes, and I can’t see to find my mask.
I climb into my bed, and fall back to sleep with the light on. When Roger notices it in the morning, I’ll tell him I fell asleep reading, and he'll chide me for wasting electricity. It’s happening so often, though, I don’t think he believes me anymore. But its morning and I can smile and offer to find us some breakfast and maybe he’d like to come with me, down to the fruit kiosk on the corner? And I’ll leave alone, knowing I’ve got at least fifteen hours before I have to fight my way to sleep once more. Fifteen hours before I have to face the darkness.