Post by Deleted on Feb 3, 2014 0:37:46 GMT
It was an absolutely ridiculous, nonsensical place to wake up in. Braith rubbed her eyes, blinking in confusion. She seemed to be positioned on a precarious pile of rubble, surrounded by strange pictographs and symbols. The vines and moss on said pile of rubble provided a comfy enough bed.
But this was certainly not home.
It started with a sense of confusion. She was not certain of the place. Her confusion didn't evolve into panic at first. No, realization came slow. At first she thought she was just dreaming, of course. She slid off the pile onto the ground, reaching a hand out to touch the nearest wall. And then one step, two step - searing pain. She cried out, sitting down and leaning against the wall. She had stepped on a sharp piece of broken stone, her foot bleeding. It healed almost instantly, without her even focusing on it.
And that's when she knew she wasn't dreaming. Not with that pain, not with the sudden, uncontrollable healing. She started to hyperventilate, terror ripping through her bones, her soul, as she realized she was not home. Everything was wrong.
Braith soon dissolved into tears, sobbing as her shoulders shook. She stared as her breath coalesced into misty colors that quickly faded, her tears created a rainbow as her sobs made quiet noise. The focus of the colors calmed her.
She looked at her foot, gently feeling over it. As she feared. A small bump where the cut had clearly been, a bump that wasn't there before. She grimaced. She had to get rid of it. So, forcefully, she ripped her foot back open, screaming large pillars of red-hot pain as she cut into her foot, cut into it to get rid of what she had created. When that was over with, she healed her foot of all its cuts. This time, there was no additional bump, no accidental over-creation of cells.
She took shaky, pained breaths, holding herself and shaking, tears still streaming down her face. She could barely breathe. She was so scared.
Toto, I don't think I'm in Kansas anymore.
She rocked herself, hands pressed against her head as her thought throbbed with the memory of pain, the thought of what could happen if she walked on the literal tumor she had created. She may act younger than she really was, but she knew her limits. She knew she had to get rid of it.
And if she wasn't home, she was by herself. There were no doctors this time, nobody to get rid of it for her. No schedule. No order. Nothing to keep her sane. She whimpered.
Scared.
But this was certainly not home.
It started with a sense of confusion. She was not certain of the place. Her confusion didn't evolve into panic at first. No, realization came slow. At first she thought she was just dreaming, of course. She slid off the pile onto the ground, reaching a hand out to touch the nearest wall. And then one step, two step - searing pain. She cried out, sitting down and leaning against the wall. She had stepped on a sharp piece of broken stone, her foot bleeding. It healed almost instantly, without her even focusing on it.
And that's when she knew she wasn't dreaming. Not with that pain, not with the sudden, uncontrollable healing. She started to hyperventilate, terror ripping through her bones, her soul, as she realized she was not home. Everything was wrong.
Braith soon dissolved into tears, sobbing as her shoulders shook. She stared as her breath coalesced into misty colors that quickly faded, her tears created a rainbow as her sobs made quiet noise. The focus of the colors calmed her.
She looked at her foot, gently feeling over it. As she feared. A small bump where the cut had clearly been, a bump that wasn't there before. She grimaced. She had to get rid of it. So, forcefully, she ripped her foot back open, screaming large pillars of red-hot pain as she cut into her foot, cut into it to get rid of what she had created. When that was over with, she healed her foot of all its cuts. This time, there was no additional bump, no accidental over-creation of cells.
She took shaky, pained breaths, holding herself and shaking, tears still streaming down her face. She could barely breathe. She was so scared.
Toto, I don't think I'm in Kansas anymore.
She rocked herself, hands pressed against her head as her thought throbbed with the memory of pain, the thought of what could happen if she walked on the literal tumor she had created. She may act younger than she really was, but she knew her limits. She knew she had to get rid of it.
And if she wasn't home, she was by herself. There were no doctors this time, nobody to get rid of it for her. No schedule. No order. Nothing to keep her sane. She whimpered.
Scared.
