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tamingthemuseTitle:Something Safe
Fandom:Original
Prompt:Rapid Eye Movement
Warnings:none
Rating:PG-13
Summary:Areal had a boring life. From sunup, to sundown.
Areal is ready to give up.
Well, she already gave up, a long time ago. She must have given up way back then, when she was really young, when she learned that her family wasn't anything special. Her mother was too caught up in trying to be a mother to her older brothers to worry about Areal, whom never did much in the way of getting into trouble. Her brothers were too busy being in trouble to deal with a younger sister that was shy and quiet and prone to throwing temper tantrums. Which she had been prone to do, she was mature enough to admit that now, wasn’t she?
It didn’t matter when she had given up, but that she had, and she knew it. She’d known it in middle school when her peers teased her for being well, her. She knew it in high school when she didn’t care about the work, nor the tests. It made her wonder why she always go so upset when she flunked a test, but didn’t care one mote about the work.
She didn’t try to move on to get any further learning under her belt, as she knew she wasn’t smart enough for anything. Heck, she couldn’t figure out how to file the paperwork, much less what to do about actual classes.
So she finished school without honors and slipped into having a job. She slipped into a mortgage and then she slipped into fading away, a pastel color in a bright painting. She was never noticed by anybody, neither in her job nor in her personal life. She had a couple friends, none among her coworkers, and those were perhaps a far too distant because they had a computer screen between them.
So she found herself there, two years shy of thirty, never having done anything worthwhile with her life, giving up hope on anything worthwhile ever happening to her. She knew if she wanted anything worthwhile to happen she had to put forth an effort, but what effort? She didn’t know any effort. She didn’t know any ambition.
She laid in her full bed, her feet where her head usually was, staring up at the ceiling. It was white, just like the walls and just like the tile in the kitchen. Even her house was boring. Small and quaint and white.
It was nearly six in the morning, and she was still awake, thinking about where her life was leading. Well, she knew it was going nowhere fast. Her eyes were puffy and ached. She closed her eyes and thought that missing on her precious REM sleep was really going to mess with her mind. She rubbed the back of her hand over her brow and made a disgruntled noise, tossing onto her side.
The house was quite save for the low hum of the refrigerator. There was light spilling in from the street light just outside her house and the sky was turning pink. Still, as tired as she was, she couldn’t sleep. She couldn’t sleep, her mind was too awake and too full of her failings.
She hated feeling full of self-pity, but sometimes it just spilled out and left her feeling weak, helpless and exhausted. She sat up, her hair wild from her tossing and turning and glared at the window that allowed the light to spill in. She heaved a sigh, her tank top sleeve sliding off her shoulder. It was abnormally warm in the room, all for it being on the verge of winter.
She kicked her feet off the side of the bed and dragged herself to the bathroom. The floor was freezing and woke her even more. She returned to her bedroom and stood beside her bed, stretching her arms over her head. As she rolled her head on her shoulders, a glint caught her eye.
She turned to face the mirror that was nailed to the door. Her own pale face looked back at her in the dim glow of the predawn. She hadn’t gained nor lost any weight lately, but she was still dissatisfied with her body shape. She pulled her tank tighter around her waist and sucked in her gut. Then she puffed out her cheeks and dropped her arms.
She didn’t quite like the way she looked, but she couldn’t make any objections. According to many, she passed off as cute, but men always passed her over. Cute was nice, if you’re ten and wearing pigtails, not when you’re nearly thirty.
She dropped to the bed, bouncing with the springs and glanced back at the mirror. There were dark bags under her eyes and her skin was thin, stretched taunt over her cheekbones.
She dropped her eyes, and as she bowed her head, diving for the pillow, that glint came back, catching her eye. She snapped her head up, toward the mirror. Whatever glint was, she couldn’t find it in the room. She checked the window, finding that the shade was still pulled.
What could it be?
When nothing more happened, she shrugged it off. It was moonlight fading, or sunlight glowing off a bit of something shiny somewhere. Just her imagination. She laid back down, sighing with her heavy weight of emotions and finally closed her eyes.
She could do this, she could force herself to sleep. She’d surely done it before, hadn’t she?
Scratching at her nose, she tried to stop her thoughts from running away, from cursing herself for her weakness of soul. At some point, she felt her cat leap onto the bed. She flinched when he walked over her hips toward the head of the bed. He padded over her pillow, head-butted her temple, purring loudly.
She reached for him, scratching behind his ear as he settled down by her ear.
She was going to be the cat lady, someday. All alone save for her cats. Most of the time, she could accept that fact about herself, but other times, she was so lonely.
She thought that she felt sleep encroaching in on her before the feeling of being watched came over her. She frowned and sat up. The cat didn’t move when she did. The room was still still with the remains of night. She looked at her mirror and frowned. It seemed off somehow, but mirrors were odd like that, and she was feeling the effects of lack of sleep. She rolled her eyes and laid back down. Closed her eyes.
Sleep did come to her, enfolding her into its warmth embrace and time moved without her knowing. She snapped awake, startled by something. She blinked up at the ceiling again, the white paint still there.
What had woken her? She slowly sat up and blinked. She couldn’t really see without her glasses, just well enough to see that the room was still as normal, late afternoon light spilling through a crack in the shade. The cat was gone from the bed and he’s place was cold.
She fumbled for her glasses and perched them on her nose. The mirror was cracked.
Her eyes widened and she slipped out of the bed, carefully walking the short distance. She touched a finger to the crack, surprised to find that it was cracked on the opposite side of the glass, the side closer to the door. She nearly had her nose pressed to the glass to see the thickness of the crack. How has that happened? Was that what had woken her?
She shrugged. Just another thing to deal with.
She turned away and nearly tripped over her cat. He hissed at her, scrambling away and out of the room. She cursed at him and heard another crack. Startled, she turned back to the mirror to see the crack had spider webbed its way through the width of the glass. Frowning, she stepped back up to the mirror.
It wasn’t the glass that was cracked. Well, it didn’t look that way. She frowned, pressing her hand to the mirror again, before giving up and walking away. Her bladder was full again and her stomach was growling. The cat was in the kitchen already, pawing at his food dish and making quite a racket.
She scooped him some dry food and stepped over him on her way to the bathroom.
Once finished, she stood in front of the fridge, gazing at the near empty shelves. There was milk and there was butter. There were box dinners and stuff, but she wasn’t ready for anything on that scale. She closed the door and drifted away, back to the bed.
She climbed back in, thankful that she didn’t have to work today. She could spend it all in bed and not worry about having to get up, get dressed, get going on time.
She stared at the broken mirror a bit more, confused as to how it had cracked all on its own. She had the mirror since she moved it, well, it came with the house. She hadn’t even bothered to ever move it. She had maybe washed it twice in the whole time she’d been there. It had needed it, now, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to waste the time doing that now. She was going to have to take the mirror down and have it replaced. She used that mirror so much, without it she was going to go crazy.
She smiled at herself in the mirror, practicing. She hated her smile, it made her cheeks look bigger, and they didn’t need any help in that department. Oh, hadn’t she heard all about that growing up from her brothers.
The smile slipped away when she couldn’t hold back a yawn. Her back arched with the yawn and she flopped back on the bed, sleep still heavy in her limbs. The cold floor and the walk still hadn’t woken her up enough to fully appreciate the day.
The sun was bright behind the shade and she glared at it, her nose wrinkling. Well, she was fine with spending her day off sleeping. She closed her eyes and sleep stole over her again.
Fandom:Original
Prompt:Rapid Eye Movement
Warnings:none
Rating:PG-13
Summary:Areal had a boring life. From sunup, to sundown.
Areal is ready to give up.
Well, she already gave up, a long time ago. She must have given up way back then, when she was really young, when she learned that her family wasn't anything special. Her mother was too caught up in trying to be a mother to her older brothers to worry about Areal, whom never did much in the way of getting into trouble. Her brothers were too busy being in trouble to deal with a younger sister that was shy and quiet and prone to throwing temper tantrums. Which she had been prone to do, she was mature enough to admit that now, wasn’t she?
It didn’t matter when she had given up, but that she had, and she knew it. She’d known it in middle school when her peers teased her for being well, her. She knew it in high school when she didn’t care about the work, nor the tests. It made her wonder why she always go so upset when she flunked a test, but didn’t care one mote about the work.
She didn’t try to move on to get any further learning under her belt, as she knew she wasn’t smart enough for anything. Heck, she couldn’t figure out how to file the paperwork, much less what to do about actual classes.
So she finished school without honors and slipped into having a job. She slipped into a mortgage and then she slipped into fading away, a pastel color in a bright painting. She was never noticed by anybody, neither in her job nor in her personal life. She had a couple friends, none among her coworkers, and those were perhaps a far too distant because they had a computer screen between them.
So she found herself there, two years shy of thirty, never having done anything worthwhile with her life, giving up hope on anything worthwhile ever happening to her. She knew if she wanted anything worthwhile to happen she had to put forth an effort, but what effort? She didn’t know any effort. She didn’t know any ambition.
She laid in her full bed, her feet where her head usually was, staring up at the ceiling. It was white, just like the walls and just like the tile in the kitchen. Even her house was boring. Small and quaint and white.
It was nearly six in the morning, and she was still awake, thinking about where her life was leading. Well, she knew it was going nowhere fast. Her eyes were puffy and ached. She closed her eyes and thought that missing on her precious REM sleep was really going to mess with her mind. She rubbed the back of her hand over her brow and made a disgruntled noise, tossing onto her side.
The house was quite save for the low hum of the refrigerator. There was light spilling in from the street light just outside her house and the sky was turning pink. Still, as tired as she was, she couldn’t sleep. She couldn’t sleep, her mind was too awake and too full of her failings.
She hated feeling full of self-pity, but sometimes it just spilled out and left her feeling weak, helpless and exhausted. She sat up, her hair wild from her tossing and turning and glared at the window that allowed the light to spill in. She heaved a sigh, her tank top sleeve sliding off her shoulder. It was abnormally warm in the room, all for it being on the verge of winter.
She kicked her feet off the side of the bed and dragged herself to the bathroom. The floor was freezing and woke her even more. She returned to her bedroom and stood beside her bed, stretching her arms over her head. As she rolled her head on her shoulders, a glint caught her eye.
She turned to face the mirror that was nailed to the door. Her own pale face looked back at her in the dim glow of the predawn. She hadn’t gained nor lost any weight lately, but she was still dissatisfied with her body shape. She pulled her tank tighter around her waist and sucked in her gut. Then she puffed out her cheeks and dropped her arms.
She didn’t quite like the way she looked, but she couldn’t make any objections. According to many, she passed off as cute, but men always passed her over. Cute was nice, if you’re ten and wearing pigtails, not when you’re nearly thirty.
She dropped to the bed, bouncing with the springs and glanced back at the mirror. There were dark bags under her eyes and her skin was thin, stretched taunt over her cheekbones.
She dropped her eyes, and as she bowed her head, diving for the pillow, that glint came back, catching her eye. She snapped her head up, toward the mirror. Whatever glint was, she couldn’t find it in the room. She checked the window, finding that the shade was still pulled.
What could it be?
When nothing more happened, she shrugged it off. It was moonlight fading, or sunlight glowing off a bit of something shiny somewhere. Just her imagination. She laid back down, sighing with her heavy weight of emotions and finally closed her eyes.
She could do this, she could force herself to sleep. She’d surely done it before, hadn’t she?
Scratching at her nose, she tried to stop her thoughts from running away, from cursing herself for her weakness of soul. At some point, she felt her cat leap onto the bed. She flinched when he walked over her hips toward the head of the bed. He padded over her pillow, head-butted her temple, purring loudly.
She reached for him, scratching behind his ear as he settled down by her ear.
She was going to be the cat lady, someday. All alone save for her cats. Most of the time, she could accept that fact about herself, but other times, she was so lonely.
She thought that she felt sleep encroaching in on her before the feeling of being watched came over her. She frowned and sat up. The cat didn’t move when she did. The room was still still with the remains of night. She looked at her mirror and frowned. It seemed off somehow, but mirrors were odd like that, and she was feeling the effects of lack of sleep. She rolled her eyes and laid back down. Closed her eyes.
Sleep did come to her, enfolding her into its warmth embrace and time moved without her knowing. She snapped awake, startled by something. She blinked up at the ceiling again, the white paint still there.
What had woken her? She slowly sat up and blinked. She couldn’t really see without her glasses, just well enough to see that the room was still as normal, late afternoon light spilling through a crack in the shade. The cat was gone from the bed and he’s place was cold.
She fumbled for her glasses and perched them on her nose. The mirror was cracked.
Her eyes widened and she slipped out of the bed, carefully walking the short distance. She touched a finger to the crack, surprised to find that it was cracked on the opposite side of the glass, the side closer to the door. She nearly had her nose pressed to the glass to see the thickness of the crack. How has that happened? Was that what had woken her?
She shrugged. Just another thing to deal with.
She turned away and nearly tripped over her cat. He hissed at her, scrambling away and out of the room. She cursed at him and heard another crack. Startled, she turned back to the mirror to see the crack had spider webbed its way through the width of the glass. Frowning, she stepped back up to the mirror.
It wasn’t the glass that was cracked. Well, it didn’t look that way. She frowned, pressing her hand to the mirror again, before giving up and walking away. Her bladder was full again and her stomach was growling. The cat was in the kitchen already, pawing at his food dish and making quite a racket.
She scooped him some dry food and stepped over him on her way to the bathroom.
Once finished, she stood in front of the fridge, gazing at the near empty shelves. There was milk and there was butter. There were box dinners and stuff, but she wasn’t ready for anything on that scale. She closed the door and drifted away, back to the bed.
She climbed back in, thankful that she didn’t have to work today. She could spend it all in bed and not worry about having to get up, get dressed, get going on time.
She stared at the broken mirror a bit more, confused as to how it had cracked all on its own. She had the mirror since she moved it, well, it came with the house. She hadn’t even bothered to ever move it. She had maybe washed it twice in the whole time she’d been there. It had needed it, now, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to waste the time doing that now. She was going to have to take the mirror down and have it replaced. She used that mirror so much, without it she was going to go crazy.
She smiled at herself in the mirror, practicing. She hated her smile, it made her cheeks look bigger, and they didn’t need any help in that department. Oh, hadn’t she heard all about that growing up from her brothers.
The smile slipped away when she couldn’t hold back a yawn. Her back arched with the yawn and she flopped back on the bed, sleep still heavy in her limbs. The cold floor and the walk still hadn’t woken her up enough to fully appreciate the day.
The sun was bright behind the shade and she glared at it, her nose wrinkling. Well, she was fine with spending her day off sleeping. She closed her eyes and sleep stole over her again.
