TM Prompt 301
TM Prompt #301: Wake up.
Every day she woke up.
And every day she wished that she could remain asleep.
How he could ever think that she wanted this ... and she wasn't sure, sometimes, to which he she was referring.
There were so many who could fit that description.
Every morning she'd squeeze her eyes shut, even after wakefulness, a large part of her knowing that it was useless but not caring all the same. She needed to pretend for a small moment that this was an extension of her dream, no matter what that dream had been. If it was something happy, if her mind could not account for the change, no matter. This couldn't be her reality.
That was how she coped.
And once her eyes opened, it was always the same blank ceiling, the same white paint, the same view of the railing, occasional sunshine trying and failing to heat cold metal. She refused to sleep in his bed, to follow his rules, because to do so would have been the final capitulation. To do so would have been to acknowledge that she was going crazy, that she could no longer deal with this. And she was many things, but she refused to be a quitter.
Waking up was the worst.
And the day she could not believe in her dream any more, the day that the fiction no longer made sense?
Then, and only then, did Kara Thrace begin to kill him.
Muse: Kara Thrace
Fandom: Battlestar Galactica
Words: 272
Every day she woke up.
And every day she wished that she could remain asleep.
How he could ever think that she wanted this ... and she wasn't sure, sometimes, to which he she was referring.
There were so many who could fit that description.
Every morning she'd squeeze her eyes shut, even after wakefulness, a large part of her knowing that it was useless but not caring all the same. She needed to pretend for a small moment that this was an extension of her dream, no matter what that dream had been. If it was something happy, if her mind could not account for the change, no matter. This couldn't be her reality.
That was how she coped.
And once her eyes opened, it was always the same blank ceiling, the same white paint, the same view of the railing, occasional sunshine trying and failing to heat cold metal. She refused to sleep in his bed, to follow his rules, because to do so would have been the final capitulation. To do so would have been to acknowledge that she was going crazy, that she could no longer deal with this. And she was many things, but she refused to be a quitter.
Waking up was the worst.
And the day she could not believe in her dream any more, the day that the fiction no longer made sense?
Then, and only then, did Kara Thrace begin to kill him.
Muse: Kara Thrace
Fandom: Battlestar Galactica
Words: 272