69/43 Whispers Of The Night Wind
A/N: Libra has her own ways of remembering who she truly is.
Whispers Of The Night Wind
By Demeter
In one fluid motion, Libra lies down in the pod, curling up on her side with her hands beside her head. As the plexiglass pane slowly slides shut above her, she wills her body to relax into the soft bedding even though her heart is still beating fast.
Waiting for sleep to claim her is always the scariest time because in her supposedly blank mind, she sees images, is her body going through various sensations she can't remember having felt.
Libra shivers though it isn't cold in the pod, but somehow she misses the comfort of a sheet to cover herself with, regardless of the fact that she has no memory of ever having had it. She closes her eyes, listening to the voices, trying to sort them out.
"You were great, Jenny. They so bought it. I should marry you for real." Hands touching her, caressing her arms, settling on her waist. Her eyes snap open, and even though she can see only darkness, she can touch the walls of her friendly prison that holds her in the present.
The next image then is worse. She is running through a wooden area, barefoot. "I'll get you, bitch!" a disembodied menacing voice swears. Her feet are bleeding; it's not the only source of pain. No, not her's. The woman's. Celeste. Libra, she thinks desperately. My name is Libra. Sleeping in the pod like every night. She runs her fingers over the smooth plexiglass, and she wishes...
She doesn't know what she wishes for. She is safe here, being cared for, given everything she needs and that is good for her - what more could she possibly want?
Still, there's something left, a hunger unsatisfied, a longing that she can't explain, reaching out for something beyond her reach.
There is another of those imaginary snapshots: lying in someone's embrace in a bed as warm and soft as the pod is, a low dark voice whispering to her tenderly. With a startling clarity, Libra knows that she will be back in those arms one day, and then, she won't be Libra, but wearing another name. She won't tell anyone, not even her friend Echo. Instead, she keeps it to herself like a secret treasure, the fantasy, the name.
"Cindy," she whispers.
With a smile on her face, Libra falls asleep.
Whispers Of The Night Wind
By Demeter
In one fluid motion, Libra lies down in the pod, curling up on her side with her hands beside her head. As the plexiglass pane slowly slides shut above her, she wills her body to relax into the soft bedding even though her heart is still beating fast.
Waiting for sleep to claim her is always the scariest time because in her supposedly blank mind, she sees images, is her body going through various sensations she can't remember having felt.
Libra shivers though it isn't cold in the pod, but somehow she misses the comfort of a sheet to cover herself with, regardless of the fact that she has no memory of ever having had it. She closes her eyes, listening to the voices, trying to sort them out.
"You were great, Jenny. They so bought it. I should marry you for real." Hands touching her, caressing her arms, settling on her waist. Her eyes snap open, and even though she can see only darkness, she can touch the walls of her friendly prison that holds her in the present.
The next image then is worse. She is running through a wooden area, barefoot. "I'll get you, bitch!" a disembodied menacing voice swears. Her feet are bleeding; it's not the only source of pain. No, not her's. The woman's. Celeste. Libra, she thinks desperately. My name is Libra. Sleeping in the pod like every night. She runs her fingers over the smooth plexiglass, and she wishes...
She doesn't know what she wishes for. She is safe here, being cared for, given everything she needs and that is good for her - what more could she possibly want?
Still, there's something left, a hunger unsatisfied, a longing that she can't explain, reaching out for something beyond her reach.
There is another of those imaginary snapshots: lying in someone's embrace in a bed as warm and soft as the pod is, a low dark voice whispering to her tenderly. With a startling clarity, Libra knows that she will be back in those arms one day, and then, she won't be Libra, but wearing another name. She won't tell anyone, not even her friend Echo. Instead, she keeps it to herself like a secret treasure, the fantasy, the name.
"Cindy," she whispers.
With a smile on her face, Libra falls asleep.