[milliways_bar OOM: this passion is a plagiarism]
“You haven't been to see me in so long, I was wondering if your problems were resolving themselves.
But then it occurred to me that perhaps the reason for your absence was that they were getting worse.”
Wanderer didn't know how to respond to her Comforter, Kathy's, inquiries. Denial was pointless, a human resort, and she worried that it would compound the problem rather than correct it. She had known adjustment to a new Host would be a challenge, but she hadn't anticipated the strength of human perceptions, reflexes, and emotions. Some days she found it hard to see how they lived this way, and it was difficult, so difficult, to get her grounding with the tiny voice whispering cruelties in her head day in and day out.
"The dreams continue?"
"Every night."
A name, Jared. A face. They induced such strong pangs of longing, fear, need, sorrow. Every night she woke from them, often terrified for reasons she couldn't pinpoint. Sometimes crying for a loss that wasn't hers to feel. It shook her, and it was beginning to affect her work. She was still as good as ever at recounting the details of her lives to her students, but sometimes they would ask a question that hit a nerve she didn't know she had, and she had to stop and collect herself before she could continue. Sometimes one of the students would do something that reminded her of the child, Jamie. The brother she hadn't had. Once Melanie realized that those memories could be a weapon, she'd let them loose more and more often.
“You… She… she's still that…present?"
When she wants to be. ... Sometimes I think she's as present as I am."
The truth was appalling to both her and the Comforter. She'd thought it would help, but instead it drove a spike of fear through her that was only amplified when Kathy suggested that she see a Healer. That she be re-implanted into a new Host. That she skip. She'd never skipped! It was wasteful, and in this case it would be murderous. If she, one of the strongest of her kind, couldn't handle this Host, then it wouldn't be reused.
"Go ahead. Make my murder official."
She couldn't. She wouldn't, and she couldn't. She'd lived too long to value these lives so little; it would be monstrous of her to make that choice, and she thought her horrified reaction was proof enough that it was the wrong choice.
But even more wrong was the suggestion Kathy made next.
“Perhaps they'll find Melanie's love, and then you can be together."
No. NonononoNONO!
The thought that slammed into her was inseperable from her own, and on top of her earlier distress it was too much. She had to be away. She had to-- the panic was sudden and inexplicable and awful and she was going to be sick if she couldn't get control of her reactions but the voice behind her only pushed her to keep running until she hit a door that was supposed to be home.
[all dialogue is from chapters 5 & 6 of The Host.]
But then it occurred to me that perhaps the reason for your absence was that they were getting worse.”
Wanderer didn't know how to respond to her Comforter, Kathy's, inquiries. Denial was pointless, a human resort, and she worried that it would compound the problem rather than correct it. She had known adjustment to a new Host would be a challenge, but she hadn't anticipated the strength of human perceptions, reflexes, and emotions. Some days she found it hard to see how they lived this way, and it was difficult, so difficult, to get her grounding with the tiny voice whispering cruelties in her head day in and day out.
"The dreams continue?"
"Every night."
A name, Jared. A face. They induced such strong pangs of longing, fear, need, sorrow. Every night she woke from them, often terrified for reasons she couldn't pinpoint. Sometimes crying for a loss that wasn't hers to feel. It shook her, and it was beginning to affect her work. She was still as good as ever at recounting the details of her lives to her students, but sometimes they would ask a question that hit a nerve she didn't know she had, and she had to stop and collect herself before she could continue. Sometimes one of the students would do something that reminded her of the child, Jamie. The brother she hadn't had. Once Melanie realized that those memories could be a weapon, she'd let them loose more and more often.
“You… She… she's still that…present?"
When she wants to be. ... Sometimes I think she's as present as I am."
The truth was appalling to both her and the Comforter. She'd thought it would help, but instead it drove a spike of fear through her that was only amplified when Kathy suggested that she see a Healer. That she be re-implanted into a new Host. That she skip. She'd never skipped! It was wasteful, and in this case it would be murderous. If she, one of the strongest of her kind, couldn't handle this Host, then it wouldn't be reused.
"Go ahead. Make my murder official."
She couldn't. She wouldn't, and she couldn't. She'd lived too long to value these lives so little; it would be monstrous of her to make that choice, and she thought her horrified reaction was proof enough that it was the wrong choice.
But even more wrong was the suggestion Kathy made next.
“Perhaps they'll find Melanie's love, and then you can be together."
No. NonononoNONO!
The thought that slammed into her was inseperable from her own, and on top of her earlier distress it was too much. She had to be away. She had to-- the panic was sudden and inexplicable and awful and she was going to be sick if she couldn't get control of her reactions but the voice behind her only pushed her to keep running until she hit a door that was supposed to be home.
[all dialogue is from chapters 5 & 6 of The Host.]