Disclaimer: I do NOT own CSI:NY nor any of the characters except my OC's.
A/N: Hope you like that.
When All Eyes Are Blind
She starts seesawing gently, back and forth, her brown curls blowing in the wind, and hums a strange melody that has just crossed her mind, coming from nowhere.
Its origin simply doesn't occur to her, though she knows it must be somewhere. Anyway, she doesn't feel like searching her mind now, entering that dangerous world, looking for a hidden memory.
She knows how dangerous that is.
And right now she' can't risk remembering.
Something might come up again.
Something that should rather stay forgotten.
One can never know which thoughts might arise from that big complex mess in your brain, from all that stuff you've dreamed and imagined and lived to see, from all the things that sometimes keep you awake at night, sometimes make you smirk, sometime knocks you down, lying heavy on your chest, making it hard to breath.
Let's face it. Better not take chances.
Her watch tells the undeniable truth, but still she feels like she has been sitting on this park bench for half a life, or at least for some hours. Her pale skin burns, dried up by the frosty wind, and she doesn't feel her toes anymore.
Trembling she rubs her ankles against each other, her hands tucked between her legs, the hood of her jacket pulled far down.
She'd wish the wind would blow her mind empty, blow all the thoughts away to a place where they can't reach her, can't catch up with her again and again.
Can't hurt anymore.
Somehow she has the impression as if the wind had weakened.
The treetops seem to sway more slowly, the boom has hushed.
However there is no one to be seen in the streets.
It's dawning, the most magical time of the day, when day turns into night.
All light vanishes, shadows growing out of nowhere.
After a while she tucks up her legs and rests her head on her knees, her calm brown eyes wandering steadily, her attentive gaze travelling over all these invisible objects that are hiding in the dark.
Far away she can see illuminated windows, drawn curtains.
Surrounded by the night, she feels safe, when the world starts its strange metamorphosis, when suddenly it's all sound and whisper and noise and smell and touch.
When all eyes are blind.
She focuses on the gentle hissing of the gusts of wind, striking her back, caressing her neck.
No, really, she doesn't want to think now.
Replay, rethink, reconsider.
Invent possibilities, imagine scenarios, dismiss them, all lost in her mind, which is not the nicest place to get lost in right now.
She understands that this moment is not to be wasted.
This is the moment to listen to the wind, not to juggle thoughts. She can put that off.
Carefully she bends her head back, rests it on the freezing backrest and looks up into the sky that's black and impervious.
For a really short moment, for the time between two winks, she can't help being overwhelmed by the urge of screaming out loud, yelling something she wouldn't even dare to think.
The ridiculous thought makes her laugh, and she starts to chuckle, but startles at the unnatural scary sound that leaves her throat.
She realizes she's damn cold.
She freezes.
Shivers run down her back.
When she lets her tongue run over her teeth she feels they are cold, and her lips are trembling.
„It's time to go home," she whispers to herself, but doesn't stand up.
It's no good pushing it aside. She knows what's expecting her at home. She knows it so well.
How lovely it'd be to spend the whole night here.
How nice to just fall asleep.
And wake up somewhere else.