Post by fallon on Feb 17, 2019 12:50:14 GMT -5
It was the early hours of the morning, or very late at night. They travelled so much that it was hard to keep any real kind of sleep pattern, so she had become accustomed to seeing light, or dark. Day, or night. Time itself as a relative force became meaningless in the days that blend together… It was always at night when she had done her thinking, when she was younger, it was because Night was the time she was most afraid. Night was when she was unprotected, it was the dangerous hours. While most kids would be sleeping soundly in their beds, a younger Fallon would huddle in shower stalls, a torch beneath her chin, scratching away into whatever book or scrap of paper she had managed to scavenge from the older kids.
As an adult, she had stopped writing diaries, stopped jotting down her thoughts and instead they took up residence in her head and festered there; the kind of thoughts that people didn’t speak aloud; the very type that most people would be horrified to know she had. Thoughts merged with memories and nightmares cropped across her brain at night and now, after what felt like an eternity of safety in his arms, that familiar fear of sleep hung heavy about her shoulders.
So here she sat, her back pressed against the frame of the bed and her knees tucked up tight to her chest, the same position she had taken likely a thousand times in her life; but despite all she had survived and endured, every day, or week, or year that she had lived, she had never felt such a sense of dread as she did now. Lenore had done what she promised and now, there they sat, spread out in a neat little circle around her. It was everything the world knew about her existence, delivered in a plain Manila envelope.
How would you feel, if your entire life could fit into a few pages, some reports, some notes. Your very existence in one, small envelope and now… You had to read all of that over to discover your own truths, there’s no way to describe that, she knew. Even to herself she couldn’t reconcile the way she was feeling. Once she read these words, once the papers were looked over, she would know everything she could know about herself… and the likelihood was, the papers would answer none of the questions she had been asking since she was old enough to form thought.
She could tell by the pattern of breathing in the bed behind her that Josh was on the cusp of waking, Maybe it was her sudden absence in the bed, or his own thoughts invading his dreams that was drawing him from his slumber, but she had the selfish notion to be glad that he might wake; she hadn’t known how to broach it with him. To mention the papers, to draw out old stories she had never told anyone. He knew, more than most of course, he had glimpses into the parts of herself she worked desperately hard to hide.
And that’s what love is, really, letting people in. Letting someone see even the parts of you that you didn’t admit to yourself. In the back of her mind she knew, it was his comfort and security that she missed in this moment. But that was also what would stop her from taking this step if she let it; she had been able to convince herself that she believed the words others said, that her past was unimportant, that she wasn’t where she came from… Lexi has even told her so much as this family being the only one she needed… and it was nice, sweet even, in thought.
But it wasn’t the truth.
Running her fingers across the loose sheets, she swept her eyes across their words; not really taking any of them in, as though prepping herself for the moment when she would have to. Her fingers tapped at the paper, her nails drawing small ghost lines into the surface. Another sound from the bed drew her attention quickly to him, lifting her head she smiled softly to herself. Deep in her heart she knew, this was where she belonged; in a way that was almost more terrifying than having nowhere to belong.
It gave her something to lose.
There were the thoughts she seldom said aloud; the ones that kept her awake at night, tossing and turning on the sheets until she gave up. Pulling herself from the bed to make a cup of coffee and accept that sleep just wouldn’t come. Since before she could really use the words to express it, she had wanted to know where she came from. These feelings has only elevated in recent months. Another year passing, a birthday gone; all of these things that had come and went, still she couldn’t share them with the people most took for granted.
They all mixed together, the bad thoughts and the good ones. She trusted Josh with all that she was but even he didn’t know the truth of what she came from, she had battled too hard and for too long to let them take over. She was afraid, if she was honest with herself, wholly and truly honest. Afraid that if he, if anyone knew, what she had survived to be sitting here… that they would look at her differently. That he would love her differently. There were moments when she longed to pour all of it out, but they passed as quickly they came and so she denied herself that closure over and over again.
She knew that he noticed the days that were different for her. Just recently, the bad thoughts had creeped in on her, settling under her skin and making her question everything. She tried to keep up appearances, but there were small, noticeable differences. Not wanting to post pictures of herself, seeing them as a reflection and not wanting to meet her own eyes. The nightmares had been more frequent recently and caused her to slip up, opening up that little pocket of herself some to all and sundry with some tweets. Tweets that, after the moment was gone, she wished she could take back… but in that same thought, she supposed that’s what made her so accessible to people. It was why she had the fanbase that she did; she didn’t shy away from struggles or hardship, she merely preferred to focus on others, instead of her own.
This paperwork could change all of that, what if it did. What if what she read here completely changed her worldview. The only good part, of not knowing where you come from? It’s being able to create your own story. Live your own fantasies and let them become as real as any true memory that you have. Her breath hitched in her throat now, she could all but gag on oxygen itself as her hands begun to shake. She wanted to be ready, but she wasn’t. She didn’t want to risk everything she had, to discover who she was…
Once again, Josh made a noise in the bed behind her and this time, she abandoned the papers. Not even bothering to collect them, she let them lie where they were and crawled back into the bed, burying under the blankets and finding his scarred, soft flesh at her fingertips, he groaned softly following it up with a light chuckle. Her hands must have felt like ice beneath the warmth of the blankets. She buried her face in his hair, drinking in his scent, in hopes that it would settle her mind. He was her safe place, the peace and quiet the rest of the world had denied here. Lying close to him, his soft breath in rhythm with her, she felt invincible… a feeling she so desperately needed in this moment.
If he had stirred then, woken up and pulled her into his arms and asked her what was on her mind; all of this may just have come spilling out. All of the doubt she tried so hard to hide… but instead he simply reacted to her touch, still softly touched by slumber and so she lay down beside him, curling up against his back, her head resting in its own, special place, at the crook of his neck and for a few blissful hours, she let sleep take her too. Hopeful that when she awoke; these feelings would disappear along with whatever she dreamt of.
As an adult, she had stopped writing diaries, stopped jotting down her thoughts and instead they took up residence in her head and festered there; the kind of thoughts that people didn’t speak aloud; the very type that most people would be horrified to know she had. Thoughts merged with memories and nightmares cropped across her brain at night and now, after what felt like an eternity of safety in his arms, that familiar fear of sleep hung heavy about her shoulders.
So here she sat, her back pressed against the frame of the bed and her knees tucked up tight to her chest, the same position she had taken likely a thousand times in her life; but despite all she had survived and endured, every day, or week, or year that she had lived, she had never felt such a sense of dread as she did now. Lenore had done what she promised and now, there they sat, spread out in a neat little circle around her. It was everything the world knew about her existence, delivered in a plain Manila envelope.
How would you feel, if your entire life could fit into a few pages, some reports, some notes. Your very existence in one, small envelope and now… You had to read all of that over to discover your own truths, there’s no way to describe that, she knew. Even to herself she couldn’t reconcile the way she was feeling. Once she read these words, once the papers were looked over, she would know everything she could know about herself… and the likelihood was, the papers would answer none of the questions she had been asking since she was old enough to form thought.
She could tell by the pattern of breathing in the bed behind her that Josh was on the cusp of waking, Maybe it was her sudden absence in the bed, or his own thoughts invading his dreams that was drawing him from his slumber, but she had the selfish notion to be glad that he might wake; she hadn’t known how to broach it with him. To mention the papers, to draw out old stories she had never told anyone. He knew, more than most of course, he had glimpses into the parts of herself she worked desperately hard to hide.
And that’s what love is, really, letting people in. Letting someone see even the parts of you that you didn’t admit to yourself. In the back of her mind she knew, it was his comfort and security that she missed in this moment. But that was also what would stop her from taking this step if she let it; she had been able to convince herself that she believed the words others said, that her past was unimportant, that she wasn’t where she came from… Lexi has even told her so much as this family being the only one she needed… and it was nice, sweet even, in thought.
But it wasn’t the truth.
Running her fingers across the loose sheets, she swept her eyes across their words; not really taking any of them in, as though prepping herself for the moment when she would have to. Her fingers tapped at the paper, her nails drawing small ghost lines into the surface. Another sound from the bed drew her attention quickly to him, lifting her head she smiled softly to herself. Deep in her heart she knew, this was where she belonged; in a way that was almost more terrifying than having nowhere to belong.
It gave her something to lose.
There were the thoughts she seldom said aloud; the ones that kept her awake at night, tossing and turning on the sheets until she gave up. Pulling herself from the bed to make a cup of coffee and accept that sleep just wouldn’t come. Since before she could really use the words to express it, she had wanted to know where she came from. These feelings has only elevated in recent months. Another year passing, a birthday gone; all of these things that had come and went, still she couldn’t share them with the people most took for granted.
They all mixed together, the bad thoughts and the good ones. She trusted Josh with all that she was but even he didn’t know the truth of what she came from, she had battled too hard and for too long to let them take over. She was afraid, if she was honest with herself, wholly and truly honest. Afraid that if he, if anyone knew, what she had survived to be sitting here… that they would look at her differently. That he would love her differently. There were moments when she longed to pour all of it out, but they passed as quickly they came and so she denied herself that closure over and over again.
She knew that he noticed the days that were different for her. Just recently, the bad thoughts had creeped in on her, settling under her skin and making her question everything. She tried to keep up appearances, but there were small, noticeable differences. Not wanting to post pictures of herself, seeing them as a reflection and not wanting to meet her own eyes. The nightmares had been more frequent recently and caused her to slip up, opening up that little pocket of herself some to all and sundry with some tweets. Tweets that, after the moment was gone, she wished she could take back… but in that same thought, she supposed that’s what made her so accessible to people. It was why she had the fanbase that she did; she didn’t shy away from struggles or hardship, she merely preferred to focus on others, instead of her own.
This paperwork could change all of that, what if it did. What if what she read here completely changed her worldview. The only good part, of not knowing where you come from? It’s being able to create your own story. Live your own fantasies and let them become as real as any true memory that you have. Her breath hitched in her throat now, she could all but gag on oxygen itself as her hands begun to shake. She wanted to be ready, but she wasn’t. She didn’t want to risk everything she had, to discover who she was…
Once again, Josh made a noise in the bed behind her and this time, she abandoned the papers. Not even bothering to collect them, she let them lie where they were and crawled back into the bed, burying under the blankets and finding his scarred, soft flesh at her fingertips, he groaned softly following it up with a light chuckle. Her hands must have felt like ice beneath the warmth of the blankets. She buried her face in his hair, drinking in his scent, in hopes that it would settle her mind. He was her safe place, the peace and quiet the rest of the world had denied here. Lying close to him, his soft breath in rhythm with her, she felt invincible… a feeling she so desperately needed in this moment.
If he had stirred then, woken up and pulled her into his arms and asked her what was on her mind; all of this may just have come spilling out. All of the doubt she tried so hard to hide… but instead he simply reacted to her touch, still softly touched by slumber and so she lay down beside him, curling up against his back, her head resting in its own, special place, at the crook of his neck and for a few blissful hours, she let sleep take her too. Hopeful that when she awoke; these feelings would disappear along with whatever she dreamt of.