six impossible things {cassiopeia} day seven
Apr 22, 2017 21:48:40 GMT -5
Post by solo on Apr 22, 2017 21:48:40 GMT -5
When I was little, Mama would make me chamomile tea when I couldn't fall asleep. She always said it would help. I don't know if it was the warmth, or the smell, or perhaps whatever herbs she put in it, but it almost always worked. I'd drink an entire, steamy mug, and by the time it was gone, I'd be ready to fall asleep. I'd go back to my room and snuggle up in the cot, and suddenly it would be morning.
I couldn't sleep tonight. Lucas wasn't there to watch out for us, Wylla wasn't there to snuggle up with. I was alone, completely alone, I think for the first time in my life. I couldn't sleep, because the last thing I wanted was to never wake up. Everyone wants to die in their sleep. They want the world to fade, time to stop, and Death to come without pain.
I don't want to die in my sleep.I don't want to fall asleep and never wake up.
But I know I have to sleep, otherwise I won't be able to defend myself, and so I pull out the little pot of chamomile tea I'd taken with me. It's still warm, not exactly hot, but not cold either. The pot is sunshine yellow, a pristine white label across the side, with the word chamomile written in black calligraphy.
I down the entire thing in a few gulps. It wasn't as much liquid as I'd thought, but I don't mind.
There's a thin little sapling behind me, a maple, I think, and I lean back, balancing the trunk between my shoulder blades. My legs stretch out before me, one covered in red cotton, the other bare and made of white plastic. I reach into my bag and pull out Wylla's toy ship.
It's then that my penguin friend comes back to me. He waddles up to my side, glass belly displaying a set of eight small axes, beady black eyes staring at me. The weapons rise into his throat and back out his mouth, and, rather politely, he hands them back to me one at a time, held between silky black flippers.
"Thanks for keeping them safe." I say, and then can't help laughing, because I realize it was a sincere thank you.
I'm talking to a mutt. I've definitely lost it.
My new friend wanders off, and quite suddenly, I'm alone again. A sigh escapes my lips. My eyes close, expecting sleep to come, but to my surprise it doesn't. In fact, I think I'm more awake now than I was before. My brows knit together and I twist my fingers around the sail of the ship for comfort.
It seems to have changed color. Pink now, instead of woody brown. No wait.Red no purple noorange.(You're being crazy, Riv.)
Wylla's voice echoes around the inside of my mind and I feel a smile pull at the corners of my thin lips. But she's left me now, hasn't she? I glance left, then right. No, she's not here. And not only that, but I'm convinced the roses are breathing. I wouldn't be surprised.
I want them back. I want Lucas, and Wylla, and Kennedy and Hendrick and Mama and everyone who's ever left. Did they leave me? I thought I left them, but the memory's gotten fuzzy, and I can't quite remember what happened. All I really know is I want them back.
I hear footsteps, and I glance up, catching myself because the world tips suddenly and I almost fall on my side. Is it Wylla? Lucas, maybe? I squint, because everything's gone blurry and I don't think it's the fault of my nearsightedness.
"You're not her."
I snap, and reach for one of my axes.
"Leave me alone."YC2Livzh1-2
[attacks Cassiopeia]
throwing axe
[10181 -- Bruised Arm -- 2 damage]*but i don’t want to go among mad people.
oh, you can’t help that, we’re all mad here. i'm mad. you're mad.
how do you know i'm mad?
you must be, or you wouldn't have come here.
*