Under the Moon [one-shot]
Dec 18, 2012 21:42:53 GMT -5
Post by Sedge on Dec 18, 2012 21:42:53 GMT -5
What was it that drew me out this evening? Was it the lure of solitude, or perhaps the full moon drawing out my lunacy? So large up there, taking up the midnight sky, but so dreadfully alone. It rests high, with stars so bright, but so far away. They attempt to give company to the satellite, but they're made of empty promises and wishful thinking. Nothing they do will make a difference.
I recall days I'd like to reach up to the moon, and touch it. Give it comfort, and receive it from the symbol of loneliness. Maybe it would give me strength in the knowledge that we are one and the same, or the sense of disconnection would grow. We would taste camaraderie, and then know what we've lost, and drift even further. Maybe that was why the stars were so far away; the moon didn't want to know what it was missing.
I don't want to know what I'm missing.
Exhaling released a puff of condensation, like a little breath of smoke from a dragon's jaws. It was cold, but not unbearable. I simply gave a small shudder, and stuffed my grimy hands into my arm pits. They were red, and were numb in the cold air. I could barely move my fingers as they thawed against my body.
All around were the soft glows of candlelight in the homes around me. Warm homes. Homes with a furnace, and family members to love and care for them. People that they could trust to keep them safe. As I stepped through the dirty streets, and beyond their identical concrete walls I felt the tingling of envy in my belly. I question why they deserve what they have: safety, warmth, and love. I question what I did to deserve dirt. At least I once questioned this. No one deserves any of it, and some of us must live with the hand that we've been dealt.
My thoughts seem quite convenient as I approach... the seedier part of District 6. The part of 6 that only my kind dared tread. It was the part that often drew my curiosity, and fascination. The danger, the silence, and... the trade. This was the home of drug dealing, and more specifically, morphling. It was a wide-spread issue across the entire place, and if you wanted any, there was no better place than here to get it. The network was so complex that it was near-impossible for peacekeepers to break it up. When one dealer was busted, two more popped up, and there were always plenty of customers. It was strong, and it was cheap, and the poor needed an out. I needed an out.
This was the first time I'd ever been here at night, and it made me uneasy. Under the cover of darkness it transformed into a monster. Every shadow was a mugger, and every sound was a gun shot. I couldn't relax here. I wanted to leave, but my legs didn't stop. They continued onwards until a voice coaxed me off of the center of the road. It was smooth like honey, and sounded so tempting. No charge, he said, no charge...
My wits cast aside, I followed him into a building. There were others, and voices, and the warmth of a fire. I remember the orange glow it cast against the smoky walls, and I remembered the chair. It was old and battered, and the wood was cracking on the back. The seat cover was stained, and everything had a strong musky scent. I remember being motioned to sit, and I complied. There was the tying of a cloth around my arm before they stuck in the needle. A small prick before everything grew quieter. I could feel myself numbing, and calm.
Everything was beautiful, and nothing hurt.
For what felt like hours, there was absolutely nothing but sound and warmth. I lay back, a smile on my face, and my eyes closed. I absorbed the lack of sensation, and the sense of relief that it carried to me. Almost nothing was there, and I found myself incapable of thought. I couldn't move, think, or reason, only enjoy. Enjoy the liquid that now flowed in my blood. At least until it faded. My relaxation had been short-lived, a mere fifteen minutes, but I was hooked. I knew that I would be back with money. I knew I'd be back for relief. But I couldn't stay here.
I hurried back to our home, still foggy from the injection, but conscious enough to head back to where we slept. The place I would sleep. The place where I would plot to make the next move, and find the money to go back that night. And plot to keep this hidden from my siblings.
I recall days I'd like to reach up to the moon, and touch it. Give it comfort, and receive it from the symbol of loneliness. Maybe it would give me strength in the knowledge that we are one and the same, or the sense of disconnection would grow. We would taste camaraderie, and then know what we've lost, and drift even further. Maybe that was why the stars were so far away; the moon didn't want to know what it was missing.
I don't want to know what I'm missing.
Exhaling released a puff of condensation, like a little breath of smoke from a dragon's jaws. It was cold, but not unbearable. I simply gave a small shudder, and stuffed my grimy hands into my arm pits. They were red, and were numb in the cold air. I could barely move my fingers as they thawed against my body.
All around were the soft glows of candlelight in the homes around me. Warm homes. Homes with a furnace, and family members to love and care for them. People that they could trust to keep them safe. As I stepped through the dirty streets, and beyond their identical concrete walls I felt the tingling of envy in my belly. I question why they deserve what they have: safety, warmth, and love. I question what I did to deserve dirt. At least I once questioned this. No one deserves any of it, and some of us must live with the hand that we've been dealt.
My thoughts seem quite convenient as I approach... the seedier part of District 6. The part of 6 that only my kind dared tread. It was the part that often drew my curiosity, and fascination. The danger, the silence, and... the trade. This was the home of drug dealing, and more specifically, morphling. It was a wide-spread issue across the entire place, and if you wanted any, there was no better place than here to get it. The network was so complex that it was near-impossible for peacekeepers to break it up. When one dealer was busted, two more popped up, and there were always plenty of customers. It was strong, and it was cheap, and the poor needed an out. I needed an out.
This was the first time I'd ever been here at night, and it made me uneasy. Under the cover of darkness it transformed into a monster. Every shadow was a mugger, and every sound was a gun shot. I couldn't relax here. I wanted to leave, but my legs didn't stop. They continued onwards until a voice coaxed me off of the center of the road. It was smooth like honey, and sounded so tempting. No charge, he said, no charge...
My wits cast aside, I followed him into a building. There were others, and voices, and the warmth of a fire. I remember the orange glow it cast against the smoky walls, and I remembered the chair. It was old and battered, and the wood was cracking on the back. The seat cover was stained, and everything had a strong musky scent. I remember being motioned to sit, and I complied. There was the tying of a cloth around my arm before they stuck in the needle. A small prick before everything grew quieter. I could feel myself numbing, and calm.
Everything was beautiful, and nothing hurt.
For what felt like hours, there was absolutely nothing but sound and warmth. I lay back, a smile on my face, and my eyes closed. I absorbed the lack of sensation, and the sense of relief that it carried to me. Almost nothing was there, and I found myself incapable of thought. I couldn't move, think, or reason, only enjoy. Enjoy the liquid that now flowed in my blood. At least until it faded. My relaxation had been short-lived, a mere fifteen minutes, but I was hooked. I knew that I would be back with money. I knew I'd be back for relief. But I couldn't stay here.
I hurried back to our home, still foggy from the injection, but conscious enough to head back to where we slept. The place I would sleep. The place where I would plot to make the next move, and find the money to go back that night. And plot to keep this hidden from my siblings.
