A/N: Thanks to all my lovely reviewers! Lots of thank you's to all. I
wrote this chapter rather late at night... does it show?
~*~*~*~
Tossing and turning, the bedclothes flying everywhere. Awful nightmare,
nightmare that doesn't mean – can't mean – much of anything but scares me
even still. Such a blur of images and thoughts. Screaming, abandonment,
death, and horrible, horrible things. The screaming becomes real as I wake
in a cold sweat, my sheets kicked down around my ankles, crying from the
nightmare. Somehow once I'm in a state of consciousness I can't clearly
summon the nightmare's contents; all that remains is the recollection of
someone – it was unclear who – dying, a vague, terrifying sense of
foreboding and dreadfulness that I can't seem to put my finger on, and the
sounds of a girl – most likely me – shrieking, shrieking that continues as
I lie in bed trying to get the dream out of my head, shrieking that fades
into sobbing. Shivering, half from fright, half from cold. It's always cold
here at night, which makes me wonder why I'm not listening to the little
voice in the back of my mind telling me to pull up the sheets and get warm
again. Instead I pull my knees to my chin and wrap my arms around them,
shuddering in my blue flannel pajamas.
I'm crying out loud, little gasps of breath working their way between my
tears, irrational tears caused by a dream that isn't even real, just a bad
trick of my subconscious that scares me too much. I sit there like that for
a long while, trying to take deep breaths through my bawling and attempting
to clear my mind of whatever had caused that terrifying death-filled
nightmare. The whole room is dark with the nighttime, a darkness that feels
ominous in connection to my bad, bad dream. All I can see are faint
silhouettes of gray against black. After quite a long time, I get too cold
and in one fluid motion I pull up the sheets and dive under them, still
crying just a little although I've calmed down some. My arms wrap around
one of my pillows, holding onto it like it's a teddy bear. I wish I had a
teddy bear right now, a little symbol of childish comfort to cling to. I
wish I had anything to cling to, to make me feel better.
A shard of light projects itself on my wall and I hear a creaking that
means my door is being opened. I sit up sharply to see who it is, throwing
my pillow out of my arms, but I don't even need to look when I feel a hand
on my chest gently shoving me back into a lying down position. He presses
his torso on mine and kisses my neck and I squeal his name, "Ooh, Frankie!"
He says nothing, but continues to kiss me and so, so much more. I tremble
at his touch and begin to tell him about my nightmare, ranting on about how
he must have heard me crying and oh I feel so much better now he's here and
I'm so glad he heard me and came, but he puts a finger to my lips in
patient protest, pressing his entire hand to my mouth completely to keep me
from continuing to speak as he rotates me in a full circle on top of the
sheets. Acquiescently, I stop talking and let him have his way with me,
gasping just a little with thrill as he kisses me all down my body, my
pajama top coming unbuttoned in his hands. My wish comes true: I have
something to cling to now, something much better than a teddy bear. A rush
of ecstasy overwhelms me and I push the nightmare out of my mind,
concentrating fully on him.
I lay breathless on my disheveled bed after we've finished and he has
departed gracefully, leaving me to drown in immoral pleasure. I clutch my
covers to my chest, sighing with lustful happiness and staring at the
ceiling. The gloominess of the nighttime doesn't bother me anymore. I keep
replaying the last fifteen minutes over and over in my head, blissfully
unaware of anything but the small realm of my reality-based fantasy. Hints
of the nightmare snap at the back of my brain, pushing their way forward
when I have an idle moment free of thought, but I control them within
seconds, refusing to focus on anything but the shameless paradise of just a
few minutes ago. There's an indefinite, dreamlike quality to the whole
night, a quality that I'm trying my hardest to hold on to, to cancel out
the nightmare of earlier tonight.
In an instant, a voice, Magenta's, sounds in my mind like an alarm. "I've
seen the girls come and go in this place. Just don't fall too hard and it
can't hurt you." I thought I had pushed it out of my mind forever, but just
when I'm in the depths of contentment it comes back to haunt me. I wonder
for a split second if she might be right. No. I can't let her get to me. I
can't. I know I'll be all right. I'm not going to get hurt. I can't get
hurt. I'm loved and wanted here. He sought me out tonight. He brought me
comfort when I was feeling scared and sad. He knew I was feeling scared and
sad. He gave me exactly what I was wanting. Magenta doesn't know what she's
talking about. It's so different, almost indescribable. It's desire,
passion, love, lust, fixation, and so much more than anyone could ever
know. I don't even know, not fully. All I know is that I love him, and I
don't think there's any way to stop.
wrote this chapter rather late at night... does it show?
~*~*~*~
Tossing and turning, the bedclothes flying everywhere. Awful nightmare,
nightmare that doesn't mean – can't mean – much of anything but scares me
even still. Such a blur of images and thoughts. Screaming, abandonment,
death, and horrible, horrible things. The screaming becomes real as I wake
in a cold sweat, my sheets kicked down around my ankles, crying from the
nightmare. Somehow once I'm in a state of consciousness I can't clearly
summon the nightmare's contents; all that remains is the recollection of
someone – it was unclear who – dying, a vague, terrifying sense of
foreboding and dreadfulness that I can't seem to put my finger on, and the
sounds of a girl – most likely me – shrieking, shrieking that continues as
I lie in bed trying to get the dream out of my head, shrieking that fades
into sobbing. Shivering, half from fright, half from cold. It's always cold
here at night, which makes me wonder why I'm not listening to the little
voice in the back of my mind telling me to pull up the sheets and get warm
again. Instead I pull my knees to my chin and wrap my arms around them,
shuddering in my blue flannel pajamas.
I'm crying out loud, little gasps of breath working their way between my
tears, irrational tears caused by a dream that isn't even real, just a bad
trick of my subconscious that scares me too much. I sit there like that for
a long while, trying to take deep breaths through my bawling and attempting
to clear my mind of whatever had caused that terrifying death-filled
nightmare. The whole room is dark with the nighttime, a darkness that feels
ominous in connection to my bad, bad dream. All I can see are faint
silhouettes of gray against black. After quite a long time, I get too cold
and in one fluid motion I pull up the sheets and dive under them, still
crying just a little although I've calmed down some. My arms wrap around
one of my pillows, holding onto it like it's a teddy bear. I wish I had a
teddy bear right now, a little symbol of childish comfort to cling to. I
wish I had anything to cling to, to make me feel better.
A shard of light projects itself on my wall and I hear a creaking that
means my door is being opened. I sit up sharply to see who it is, throwing
my pillow out of my arms, but I don't even need to look when I feel a hand
on my chest gently shoving me back into a lying down position. He presses
his torso on mine and kisses my neck and I squeal his name, "Ooh, Frankie!"
He says nothing, but continues to kiss me and so, so much more. I tremble
at his touch and begin to tell him about my nightmare, ranting on about how
he must have heard me crying and oh I feel so much better now he's here and
I'm so glad he heard me and came, but he puts a finger to my lips in
patient protest, pressing his entire hand to my mouth completely to keep me
from continuing to speak as he rotates me in a full circle on top of the
sheets. Acquiescently, I stop talking and let him have his way with me,
gasping just a little with thrill as he kisses me all down my body, my
pajama top coming unbuttoned in his hands. My wish comes true: I have
something to cling to now, something much better than a teddy bear. A rush
of ecstasy overwhelms me and I push the nightmare out of my mind,
concentrating fully on him.
I lay breathless on my disheveled bed after we've finished and he has
departed gracefully, leaving me to drown in immoral pleasure. I clutch my
covers to my chest, sighing with lustful happiness and staring at the
ceiling. The gloominess of the nighttime doesn't bother me anymore. I keep
replaying the last fifteen minutes over and over in my head, blissfully
unaware of anything but the small realm of my reality-based fantasy. Hints
of the nightmare snap at the back of my brain, pushing their way forward
when I have an idle moment free of thought, but I control them within
seconds, refusing to focus on anything but the shameless paradise of just a
few minutes ago. There's an indefinite, dreamlike quality to the whole
night, a quality that I'm trying my hardest to hold on to, to cancel out
the nightmare of earlier tonight.
In an instant, a voice, Magenta's, sounds in my mind like an alarm. "I've
seen the girls come and go in this place. Just don't fall too hard and it
can't hurt you." I thought I had pushed it out of my mind forever, but just
when I'm in the depths of contentment it comes back to haunt me. I wonder
for a split second if she might be right. No. I can't let her get to me. I
can't. I know I'll be all right. I'm not going to get hurt. I can't get
hurt. I'm loved and wanted here. He sought me out tonight. He brought me
comfort when I was feeling scared and sad. He knew I was feeling scared and
sad. He gave me exactly what I was wanting. Magenta doesn't know what she's
talking about. It's so different, almost indescribable. It's desire,
passion, love, lust, fixation, and so much more than anyone could ever
know. I don't even know, not fully. All I know is that I love him, and I
don't think there's any way to stop.