Miles and miles and... (part two)
(Curious? Part One is Here)
"I won't let you keep hurting me," she says, not a child's voice any more. "I won't. And you can't control me anymore."
Sylvia hears. Sylvia smiles. Sylvia makes the girl (not a child any more) scream again.
The scream jolts me, but not enough. I lapse...
Somehow, the girl breaks free - again? as always? Her footsteps echo, moving quickly down hallways, stairs. Quick little steps - lots of echoes.
Sylvia laughs. Her footsteps do not echo.
The echoes pause, start, stop, but not for long. She's not lost, never lost - can't be lost - but the place is unfamiliar and she makes a wrong turn.
Sylvia smiles and the girl screams again.
The scream jolts me and this time I become aware of a point of view. I feel the smile but in the darkness, I cannot see - not the girl, not Sylvia, not the hallways. It is all darkness - my eyes will not open, but I feel her smile.
The girl screams again, a long scream, gaining in intensity and tone until there is no sound, until the scream itself is silence.
I lapse in that scream - losing my point of view, like opening eyes in total darkness.
The scream ends - no trailing off, no whimpering, nothing - just true silence, which floods my attention with such force that I am pushed back. Sylvia smiles again and again and again - all at me now. All at me. I don't like her smile. I know her smile. I know and suddenly I know that I am more than a point of view, that I know her smile like I know my face, like I know my own cruelty - but to Sylvia's growing dismay, I am not scared. She frowns, a painful expression somehow worse than the smile.
As if in desperation, Sylvia makes the girl (not a child any more) scream. A short scream that quickly degrades into whimpering and crying. The girl whispers something I cannot hear - she is so far away now.
I open my eyes and, for lack of a better word, come awake. The couch under me is familiar, but I'm not immediately sure why.
"Oh good dear, you're awake. We were so worried." I turn toward the voice and look into the eyes of Sylvia. Her eyes but the face is older: a wasteland of cracks and crevices. I grin at her, feeling her smile crease my own cheeks. Then I remember Raylyn and look to see the bastard still sitting at the cute little table with a lace napkin stuffed in his collar.
"Hey fucker," I call to him, grasping Sylvia's shoulder to leverage myself into a vertical position; my legs throb only slightly. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see her fighting a frown and I stifle a laugh - I don't want to show all my cards. Not yet.
I smile toothily at Raylyn, who stiffens and tries not to look at me. "I would just adore a cup of tea - be a dear wouldya? And I could just murder one of those tasty little cakes."
"I won't let you keep hurting me," she says, not a child's voice any more. "I won't. And you can't control me anymore."
Sylvia hears. Sylvia smiles. Sylvia makes the girl (not a child any more) scream again.
The scream jolts me, but not enough. I lapse...
Somehow, the girl breaks free - again? as always? Her footsteps echo, moving quickly down hallways, stairs. Quick little steps - lots of echoes.
Sylvia laughs. Her footsteps do not echo.
The echoes pause, start, stop, but not for long. She's not lost, never lost - can't be lost - but the place is unfamiliar and she makes a wrong turn.
Sylvia smiles and the girl screams again.
The scream jolts me and this time I become aware of a point of view. I feel the smile but in the darkness, I cannot see - not the girl, not Sylvia, not the hallways. It is all darkness - my eyes will not open, but I feel her smile.
The girl screams again, a long scream, gaining in intensity and tone until there is no sound, until the scream itself is silence.
I lapse in that scream - losing my point of view, like opening eyes in total darkness.
The scream ends - no trailing off, no whimpering, nothing - just true silence, which floods my attention with such force that I am pushed back. Sylvia smiles again and again and again - all at me now. All at me. I don't like her smile. I know her smile. I know and suddenly I know that I am more than a point of view, that I know her smile like I know my face, like I know my own cruelty - but to Sylvia's growing dismay, I am not scared. She frowns, a painful expression somehow worse than the smile.
As if in desperation, Sylvia makes the girl (not a child any more) scream. A short scream that quickly degrades into whimpering and crying. The girl whispers something I cannot hear - she is so far away now.
I open my eyes and, for lack of a better word, come awake. The couch under me is familiar, but I'm not immediately sure why.
"Oh good dear, you're awake. We were so worried." I turn toward the voice and look into the eyes of Sylvia. Her eyes but the face is older: a wasteland of cracks and crevices. I grin at her, feeling her smile crease my own cheeks. Then I remember Raylyn and look to see the bastard still sitting at the cute little table with a lace napkin stuffed in his collar.
"Hey fucker," I call to him, grasping Sylvia's shoulder to leverage myself into a vertical position; my legs throb only slightly. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see her fighting a frown and I stifle a laugh - I don't want to show all my cards. Not yet.
I smile toothily at Raylyn, who stiffens and tries not to look at me. "I would just adore a cup of tea - be a dear wouldya? And I could just murder one of those tasty little cakes."
posted by mysfit | 12.2.06
6 Comments:
FM - i only wish that they were my cards or at least that i could see the cards - unfortunately, my characters rarely tell me anything ahead of time - ensnared, huh? i'm glad you like it - i am vaguely disatisfied with my descriptions as the scenes in my head are complicated on this one(probably why it took me so long)
jenn see - :P
Very avante garde to me. A disjointed nightmare. And like a nightmare, I can't look away. I'm mesmerized even if I don't understand.
You have a fascinating perspective.
:O
I definitely want you to keep writing more on this! (mainly 'coz I'm confused)
So is this still on?
yes sry - my muse got mad at me and decided it needed a vacation...
darling - at least one of muses resides on the east coast, always - damn you... wait you just wiat, i will get my revenge!
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