A/N: So this story will take the form of a '5+1' story: '5 times Winston Smith was afraid of rats, and one time he wasn't'. It's my first venture into 1984 fanfic, which is a bit intimidating, but it's a book (and film) I adore ~ It'll be based mostly on the book, and partly on the film starring John Hurt.

MUSOPHOBIA

Part I - Yersinia Pestis

Winston's memories are not complete. They are more like dreams; snatches of hazy images that come to him every now and then. It is as if he is looking in a fractured mirror. He thinks he sees himself in it, but it could be a trick of shadow and light. There are faces he imagines he recognises - his mother and his sister, huddled together, embracing one another. Or maybe that was just a frame he saw once in a Party broadcast.

Somewhere, something tells him he murdered his mother. He doesn't know why he feels that. It is a sensation he gets occasionally. He vainly attempt to force the pieces of his past together, but they won't fit. It is a patchwork of mismatched seams, trying to unite the tears in the fabric.

There is one picture that always arises, though, whenever his mind drifts to his childhood. He knows he shouldn't think of it. He knows he should leave it alone. He knows that it doesn't matter. But, sometimes, he will see something, or smell something, or hear something, and he will be abducted back to that distant place. It still somehow seems important.

Winston watches his mother and sister through the void. They are sick, and he is hungry. Or maybe they are hungry, and he is sick. Either way, he wants what they have. His mother is holding a chocolate bar to his sister's lips, trying to make her eat. Winston steals it from them. That part he is sure of. He remembers the feel of the wrapper between his blistered fingers, and the sweet, rare taste of it in his parched mouth. In one version of this memory, he savours it. In another, he stuffs it in so fast he almost chokes on it. But whatever happens, he keeps it all to himself.

He cannot remember if he felt shame back then. But the passing of the years have built the emotion into a tower of guilt.

In the next picture, he returns to the house. It is deserted. Now, he can barely recall the appearance of the rooms, only the desolation, only the emptiness. His mother and his sister are gone. He cannot be entirely sure they were there at all.

Ghostlike, he walks to the bedroom he imagines they might have been in before. It has turned black and blank in his memory. But in the gulf, there are noises. Forms swarm and multiply like bacteria. They emerge from the darkness. He knows what they are. This part he cannot forget.

Rats populate the gaps in his past. He remembers that he stood there, frozen, and watched them clamber over each other. Before his eyes, they moved like a dark wave, squealing, scratching. Sometimes, Winston still imagines the feel of their tails curling around his legs. His mother and sister were gone. And in their place - rats.

He no longer can say what happened after that. The scenes turn into muddled blurs. He grows older and ends up in this gutted apartment in the Victory Mansions.

But they are still here. The rats.

They are always here.

(tbc)

A/N: feedback always appreciated c: