The ginger-haired merc had just finished lighting up another smoke and now looked at her, too; a small, lopsided smile on his face that, together with the smile wrinkles around his eyes, was terribly hard to resist. Amanda found herself able to return that smile, if only just. Those dark brown eyes made her heart flutter for a reason she couldn’t explain. “Well, I’ll be seeing you, kid.” He shrugged and gave her a nod. “I’m not going to cant and give you shit about how life goes on and so forth. But it’s your life now. Don’t wait for it to happen on its own.” Amanda nodded and watched him go, too, a strange, nervous glow in her stomach. Then she softly closed the door behind her, locked it, and collapsed onto the cot.
Her dreams were full of nightmares, shots, screams and howls rang through the air smelling of blood, guts and death. The pictures in her mind were chaotic and unsorted, mixing the death of her parents with the one of her brother that happened two years ago, and other, stranger pictures her tired, exhausted and shaken mind conjured up in a way that is only possible in dreams. She was constantly fighting for her life, running away, fighting creatures and people in dark and frightening places, seeing smouldering fires emitting acidic smokes that choked her and burned her lungs, and suddenly, only a heavy, moist and all-encompassing darkness. Cold and suffocating, growing heavier by the second, making it impossible to breathe. And she realised she was buried alive. It was the cold earth of the grave engulfing her, and she could feel and hear them throw shovel by shovel of earth onto her body. She tried to scream at them to stop, that she was still alive, but her mouth filled with cold, crumbling earth and no sound emerged. She tried to scream, but the earth crumbled down her throat into her lungs...
And she shot upright with a hoarse and choked scream of terror. “I’m alive! Oh god, I’m still alive!” With her breathing only slowly calming down, the taste of earth still on her tongue, she fell back onto the cot. She was drenched in sweat and shaking all over, so cold that she couldn’t remember ever having frozen that much. With aching limbs she crawled from the cot, dug into her bag and wrapped herself in the blanket she kept there. It didn’t help against the cold, but it gave her a slight feeling of security to be covered. Her eyes fell shut again a few moments later.
Her dreams, as she remembered them when she awoke again, had been vivid and strange, but not as frightening. She had just been running, running to get somewhere, and even as she knew she was too late, she kept running. As dreams are wont to do when running into that particular direction, a thousand things happened that delayed her further: She dropped things, lost her shoe, took a wrong turn, and in the end, she suddenly ended up being naked as a jaybird locked up in a dark and windowless room.
And then she heard her brother’s voice. “It’s all right, honey. Everything’s all right.” Her brother had always been there. He had always protected her. Had kept her safe. Had smuggled her out of camp at night to take her into town and to the bar if there had been one. He had facilitated her first experiences with alcohol and the opposite gender, and he had always, always only done her good. It felt so good having him back, and since he was her brother, she wasn’t ashamed any more at being naked. His embrace was warm and comforting, and his smell of sweat, leather and smoke reassuring and calming.
But only after waking up did she remember that her brother James hadn’t smoked and had never once smelled of cigarettes.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
timeasmymeasure
Stronger than death itself 4d/?
Date: 2012-05-10 03:33 pm (UTC)“Well, I’ll be seeing you, kid.” He shrugged and gave her a nod. “I’m not going to cant and give you shit about how life goes on and so forth. But it’s your life now. Don’t wait for it to happen on its own.”
Amanda nodded and watched him go, too, a strange, nervous glow in her stomach. Then she softly closed the door behind her, locked it, and collapsed onto the cot.
Her dreams were full of nightmares, shots, screams and howls rang through the air smelling of blood, guts and death. The pictures in her mind were chaotic and unsorted, mixing the death of her parents with the one of her brother that happened two years ago, and other, stranger pictures her tired, exhausted and shaken mind conjured up in a way that is only possible in dreams. She was constantly fighting for her life, running away, fighting creatures and people in dark and frightening places, seeing smouldering fires emitting acidic smokes that choked her and burned her lungs, and suddenly, only a heavy, moist and all-encompassing darkness. Cold and suffocating, growing heavier by the second, making it impossible to breathe.
And she realised she was buried alive. It was the cold earth of the grave engulfing her, and she could feel and hear them throw shovel by shovel of earth onto her body. She tried to scream at them to stop, that she was still alive, but her mouth filled with cold, crumbling earth and no sound emerged. She tried to scream, but the earth crumbled down her throat into her lungs...
And she shot upright with a hoarse and choked scream of terror. “I’m alive! Oh god, I’m still alive!”
With her breathing only slowly calming down, the taste of earth still on her tongue, she fell back onto the cot. She was drenched in sweat and shaking all over, so cold that she couldn’t remember ever having frozen that much. With aching limbs she crawled from the cot, dug into her bag and wrapped herself in the blanket she kept there. It didn’t help against the cold, but it gave her a slight feeling of security to be covered. Her eyes fell shut again a few moments later.
Her dreams, as she remembered them when she awoke again, had been vivid and strange, but not as frightening. She had just been running, running to get somewhere, and even as she knew she was too late, she kept running. As dreams are wont to do when running into that particular direction, a thousand things happened that delayed her further: She dropped things, lost her shoe, took a wrong turn, and in the end, she suddenly ended up being naked as a jaybird locked up in a dark and windowless room.
And then she heard her brother’s voice. “It’s all right, honey. Everything’s all right.” Her brother had always been there. He had always protected her. Had kept her safe. Had smuggled her out of camp at night to take her into town and to the bar if there had been one. He had facilitated her first experiences with alcohol and the opposite gender, and he had always, always only done her good. It felt so good having him back, and since he was her brother, she wasn’t ashamed any more at being naked. His embrace was warm and comforting, and his smell of sweat, leather and smoke reassuring and calming.
But only after waking up did she remember that her brother James hadn’t smoked and had never once smelled of cigarettes.