Upon my pillow, safe in bed,
A thousand pictures fill my head.
I cannot sleep, my mind’s a-flight
And yet my limbs seem made of lead.
She wished she could sleep, but the mind was always awake. Underneath the canopy of trees Maluiel swung from a hammock made of fuzzy yarn and wood. Or was it made of rope and metal? Perhaps bone and sinew. It could be made of whatever she wanted. The air could sound like wind, like screams, like a chorus of choir vocals, or like nothing. The grass could be green, blue, black or fish.
It felt like she’d exhausted everything she could possibly use to entertain herself, but somehow had only tapped the surface. She refused to dig too deep. The monsters had subsided but she still hadn’t woken from within herself. Perhaps she was scared to. Some bit of her was aware that things on the outside had to be different.
Maybe she didn’t want to live, but she couldn’t stay here forever either. She could see the rest of her existence within her own head becoming a quickening spiral of mercurial formlessness as she drifted further and further away from individuality and sanity.
The ever sensitive brain within her sleeping skull craved further stimulation, stimulation that couldn’t be given in this dream world.
Bare feet met the (purple) grass and the hammock swung fast with the sudden lift of her weight away from its frame. And despite the lax way that she took action, she felt as though each movement was part of a ticking clock, a timer setting itself. This was her last chance. The garden was lush and growing, but as Maluiel waved a hand, the ground opened like a yawning mouth and she dove into the chasm, taking all the life and color her little sanctuary had with her.
She fell headfirst, deeper and deeper into the layers of herself until she felt as though she were flying, not falling. The darkness blinked with stars, lines connecting them in complex constellations.
If you’re waking up, you’re remembering everything.
I can handle it.
It’s better than wasting away here.
You know how long it’s been, don’t you?
You’re going to have to deal with it one way or the other.
I don’t need to know now. If I know now, I won’t want to wake up.
She flew between stars, snipping lines here, reattaching them there. Sparks flew, rusted gears began to crank, dust blowing away as though a set of gently parted lips had huffed and puffed them out of existence. Brainwaves flickered and began to flow, tentatively at first as sensations previously deemed unsafe to experience began to wake up.
Movement, musculature, coordination, they’ll all need a great deal of work.
You’re talking like I don’t know this.
You know it, but have you accounted for it in total? Is the effort going to be worth the reward?
We’ll have to see.
She came to the last line, snipping away triggers and trip-wires. Cutting out the unnecessary and re-attached the essential. She plucked at the series of strings reminiscent of a harp, fingers deft and lithe. Gentle hands brushed away the webbing, scraped away the rust, until finally -
She just had to do it, now.
Last chance.@2 days ago with 3 notes
#not-au #someone's awake