Trace Memory- character story
14 years ago
General
She had woken up four times now. Falling asleep had never been really easy for Sjo. Each time she closed her eyes, she heard the roaring sound of water and felt the push of the slipstream of water on her body. This broke up into chunks as she woke up. This was hard, sleep was hard.
Her hair pooled around her on the pillow, and she looked at the alarm clock. Five minutes before she was supposed to awaken for a long tram ride to the city. What would it be like there? She had never been so far inland. Even if it was an island. Well- maybe not, she could not remember. The sound of rushing waves and surf pounded in her ears and her hands went up to them.
It was preposterous that she could not breathe. She could breathe under water and on land. The air bladder in her allowed her to do this. Breaths came in and out for a bit in a raspy fashion. Falling. The dream had been about falling. No- no! That was not right! Tears of frustration stung her eyes and she had to lay back down on her side, curl herself like a shrimp.
“Why can't I remember how I got here?” Silence. No one was there. It was just her. The feeling she had the panic started to go down, it slowly retreated into embers, she could be safe in her own thoughts again. The dream had been the same since she remembered waking up on a narrow coastline of rocks. Her head had been bloodied and she had woken up to crabs poking at her like she was a ready to eat meal.
The worst part about it, was that it was always the same. She always fell from cold, ugly rocks into a swirling, no, churning pool of water. It must have been the ocean, for what else was cold and wild like that? The sea had many faces though. Many, many faces, indeed. Her hands had clutched at the coverlet she had been nestled in. The urge to run was so big. Run little girl. Run away from everything. Go! Forget all the people that care about you, calling to you. This was distinct. A memory she may have had. He was an unclear face in her mind. Her head hurt and the need to get up and have a glass of salt water was overwhelming.
Ughhh. Throbbing head go away. She rubs her head and strips the nightgown over her head. Curious spots of copper mar her back. The nightshirt is unclaimed and wrinkled on the floor. On the way into the shower, she flicks on the radio.
“For we have learned to build our walls, so very strong and very tall, for fear of what the world might steal...”
// Insert from Above & Beyond f/ Oceanlab- If I could fly.//
FA+
