A/N: First of all... *hides to avoid being hit with incoming objects for not updating* I'm sorry. Thank you to those who have stayed and reviewed. You know not how much I appreciate it even after months of nothing. This is what I meant when I talked about the irregular schedule. Thank you all so SO much again for sticking with it, and again, I'm sorry you've had to wait so long.
Disclaimer: Ha!
So that's probably the most depressing part of my so-called life. Now let me move on to a more interesting segment in which we skip over countless more scenarios of the same screaming, suffering, guilt multiplied, and so on. It gets quite tedious after a while if I'm totally honest. The intensity doesn't diminish, but it now comes with a tint of boredom. Like when crying over someone who you know isn't worth the tears.
Anyway, a long time had passed of me wondering why I had been made like this, other depressing questions I stopped asking, deaths I stopped counting, and then I learned what happens beyond the initial unbearable pain when I don't feed. This was sometime after the first time I was imprisoned. People can be oh so cruel, I'm just thankful I got some of the less intelligent ones my first time.
Starting out, I simply thought something along the lines of joke's on them, they won't see me moving anytime soon, but they were patient. More patient than I thought. In fact so patient that I didn't think they wanted to see me move. The irony of trapping me while already in a prison became cruel really soon.
Sure, the nightmares soon reached a point so unbearable that the echoing screams were solace in comparison to the emotions, but that's really not the point. The thing I found interesting amidst my fear was that instead of owning the stone body, I became a small, meek presence within it, and it was then that I fully appreciated the meaning of the word "prison". And it wasn't like an out-of-body experience, it was a within-body experience.
I had a physical presence that wasn't stone, but I could feel the stone that used to be my skin under my hands as the nightmares and emotions flew around erratically, causing flickers of light here and there, allowing me to catch a glimpse of the inside of my stone exterior. Cowering in a corner as though in the same cave as a beast in which a specific set of nightmares, the very first ones I'd ever experienced, came closest in the darkness. They were familiar and that was the closest thing I had to comfort at the moment.
The nightmares flew around the confinements of the stone, crashing into the stone as if wanting to be released.
I don't know for how long I was in that state before I started physically pounding on the stone. I'm not sure you understand that I was actually, not metaphorically or symbolically, trapped within my stone exterior as a human (though I was distracted enough to fully process this). I'd like to make that perfectly clear.
Please, I begged to no one in particular, because that's another thing: I still couldn't scream.
They say solitary confinement is the worst punishment, but it's better than being forced to bottle everything. Good or bad. Those feelings you get when you're so happy or sad you could explode unless you cry, laugh, break down, or talk to someone about it? Stuck. Bouncing around, as my pleas of instinct started to echo within the walls as well.
Please! Hit.
Make it stop! Hit.
PLEASE! Hit.
It was a cycle.
Please. Hit.
Until I grew weary and any other human would say they'd run out of tears to cry. I'm not sure if my captors were ever intending to kill me, but they sure weren't intending for me to move.
Please. Hit.
Why? Hit.
The hits weakened.
Please.
Hit.
But like a bird atop a diamond mountain…
Please.
Hit.
I'd eventually made a dent in the stone.
Please.
Hit.
And crumble?
Another hit, my strength more prominent in the change.
And crack?
Have I been answered? Have I learned my lesson?
Then the yellow sparkles came again. Another source of light that only served to taunt me.
And instead of the stone now, it was my hope that crumbled. The stone above me, below me, and all around me was cracked, but sparkling in yellow.
They did eventually all blink at the same time, but it took a while. That or I was a tad distracted. Either way, this is what I remember with a shiver, cursing for the nth time whoever thought teaching a nightmare how to reproduce was a good idea. I dented their little tin prison and trapped them all inside. Despite my desperation, I wasn't going to be merciful, or kind with them in letting them live in another time.
With all the boasting humans do, it's spectacular how they hadn't got very creative in their imprisonment methods. They did eventually think of better ways, but when I was subject to them, I couldn't even bring myself to think anything like oh no! What will I do now? Instead, it was more along the lines of it took you long enough.
Long story short, it's not very different. Just more of the same stuff that sort of starts to drive one insane.
One time they put me in front of a mirror, and not only did I feel the stone within me actually start to crumble from starvation, but my inner self, my personified soul actually started laughing. A madness that somehow amplified and placated the fear I felt. Needless to say, it was a weird combination.
Though they started getting clever after that. And not just the humans (yes, it was literally sometimes us against the universe). They shoved me in another tin can like any other before, but before I could start bringing any sarcasm out, I felt it in fuller force than ever before.
My sixth sense, the instinct that told me when to and not to move, was going as insane as I would soon go. Then I realized why.
I slightly admired the patience for, as it was hard enough to capture one of us, let alone two. As in front of me, stood an almost perfect copy of myself. Stone wings, same shade of grey, empty, uncovered eyes, and a look of neutrality that had a hint of surprise behind it. I got to know this face quite well as we both gained new cracks and our stone crumbled when we saw them form.
This was a conundrum I couldn't solve alone, so it was quite convenient to me, once my form had cracks so deep I started to feel them as more than just crumbling walls within, that some blessed idiot came barreling through space-time with a machine that was falling apart, allowing a moment of peace from my instincts, and what I knew would be some nice screams of frustration from the team that kept us there. I have to admit though, I would miss that face. It was the only time I wasn't completely alone.
Somehow, that was the only time the Doctor saved me and condemned me instead of just condemning me.
These memories are what I purposefully focus on among the ruckus in my mind in my new prison. They think that bunkers and cells are what keep me sometimes. But it was never the confinement, it was the cameras that kept me rooted to my spot until they all blinked. Not a common event, hence only four seconds of movement. I only moved to freak them out in all honesty. I knew it wouldn't do much. I could feel their fear through the walls every time they found me in a new position and frankly, it was a hilarity that made my time imprisoned somewhat tolerable, and my inner soul cackle in her madness despite the nightmares growing louder. Still I knew what was coming.
But then that girl… In colour… It had been so long since I'd seen colour… I almost had trouble matching her to the colour red… wandered in and then gave me a way out through the windows to her soul that we lack and at the same time don't. This red girl was a key that the Doctor himself practically handed over in the midst of what the humans called "research". And there was no way I would let it - her - pass me by.
A/N: Thanks for the read! Any comments are greatly appreciated, and thank you again to those who've made it all the way to chapter 3. Until next time!
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