14 Jan 2006, 15:09
::FOUR::
Wait til late. The ship is quiet, has been for hours. She’s asleep, but not deeply. I have the feeling she doesn’t really sleep deep, doesn’t trust herself to be off guard. Every once in a while she’ll quietly stretch everything, as much as she can. Doesn’t want her body to fall asleep. Makes it easier to react quicker.
“You’re not sleeping.”
She’s still blindfolded. Can’t help but get the feeling that her eyes just opened. Not quickly, like you would if you got startled, but slowly, like you expected it. That and that she doesn’t need to see me to know exactly where I am.
“You have a name?”
No answer. Not words anyway. Her head tilts to the side. A crease between her eyebrows. Her mouth opens, what little light there is flashing back off those sharpened teeth. A croak. Like she’s fighting with the sound. Can’t remember what the sounds are. Settles for a soft growl, putting her head back.
Seen that in prison. With guys that spent so much time in solitary that they forgot how to speak. Wonder if that’s what happened to her. At the oldest, she looks about twenty five. And that’s at the top. How fucking long has she been like that I wonder?
Anise. I’m told my name is Anise. I haven’t been called by name for a long, long time. Not since I was a very young girl. It’s surprising how easy it is to forget something like that. Haven’t exactly had what you could call a conversation in a long fucking time. The constant buzz in my head makes it hard to think clearly sometimes. Just getting everything to work right when it should takes up just about everything I’ve got. It’s gotten to the point where I don’t think I can talk anymore.
That’s okay. What would I say anyways. The only language my owner cared about was the language of pain. Spoke it eloquently, so it wouldn’t leave a mark on me. Not on the outside. Not where it would show. Screams were the only answer I had, for so long. My voice grew hoarse, deepened. Between that, and the silence, and the dark, I lost the ability.
Somewhere in there, I even lost the need. I no longer screamed. That’s when the chips went in. Don’t quite know what they are, or how they work. Central nervous system. Intensifies pain. I grew accustomed to pain, and couldn’t be hurt anymore. So the only option, other than damaging me on the outside, was to make everything hurt more. Even at that, I grew accustomed. Part of me will not speak because it’s the only way I can fight back.
Now, even when I want to speak, I can’t.
She let’s out a sigh. I just love a challenge.
next…
Descent 4
14 Jan 2006, 15:09
::FOUR::
Wait til late. The ship is quiet, has been for hours. She’s asleep, but not deeply. I have the feeling she doesn’t really sleep deep, doesn’t trust herself to be off guard. Every once in a while she’ll quietly stretch everything, as much as she can. Doesn’t want her body to fall asleep. Makes it easier to react quicker.
“You’re not sleeping.”
She’s still blindfolded. Can’t help but get the feeling that her eyes just opened. Not quickly, like you would if you got startled, but slowly, like you expected it. That and that she doesn’t need to see me to know exactly where I am.
“You have a name?”
No answer. Not words anyway. Her head tilts to the side. A crease between her eyebrows. Her mouth opens, what little light there is flashing back off those sharpened teeth. A croak. Like she’s fighting with the sound. Can’t remember what the sounds are. Settles for a soft growl, putting her head back.
Seen that in prison. With guys that spent so much time in solitary that they forgot how to speak. Wonder if that’s what happened to her. At the oldest, she looks about twenty five. And that’s at the top. How fucking long has she been like that I wonder?
Anise. I’m told my name is Anise. I haven’t been called by name for a long, long time. Not since I was a very young girl. It’s surprising how easy it is to forget something like that. Haven’t exactly had what you could call a conversation in a long fucking time. The constant buzz in my head makes it hard to think clearly sometimes. Just getting everything to work right when it should takes up just about everything I’ve got. It’s gotten to the point where I don’t think I can talk anymore.
That’s okay. What would I say anyways. The only language my owner cared about was the language of pain. Spoke it eloquently, so it wouldn’t leave a mark on me. Not on the outside. Not where it would show. Screams were the only answer I had, for so long. My voice grew hoarse, deepened. Between that, and the silence, and the dark, I lost the ability.
Somewhere in there, I even lost the need. I no longer screamed. That’s when the chips went in. Don’t quite know what they are, or how they work. Central nervous system. Intensifies pain. I grew accustomed to pain, and couldn’t be hurt anymore. So the only option, other than damaging me on the outside, was to make everything hurt more. Even at that, I grew accustomed. Part of me will not speak because it’s the only way I can fight back.
Now, even when I want to speak, I can’t.
She let’s out a sigh. I just love a challenge.
next…