Thank you so much, Reviewers. And Readers. Yeah, I'm running out of ways to phrase my appreciation...
This chapter seemed to... Well this is just the way it came out. Enjoy.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
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Thirty-Second Waking.
I'm just tired.
I'm tired of all this noise, all the thunder, and I'm tired of climbing, I'm tired of rocks. My legs are tired, my arms are tired, my ears are tired, and I'm hungry. I hate this.
What is it, hand? What are you itching to tell me? To tell anyone? "Greys said think positive"? To Deep Sky with thinking positive! Blast you!
But I am in Deep Sky. Am I? So it's already there, thinking positive is already there. Or here. I can't tell.
We felt wind today. That's positive.
Hand, I hate you.
I know.
It made us want to move more, the wind, as if something were waking up inside us. But it also made it colder. It's still breezing, only just slightly. It's like someone is fingering my face. Or like feathers. I blink a lot. My eyes dry out. Before it was so still. But now there is moving air. And sound. Like wind against the edge of land. A whisper.
That must be what it is: wind blowing against the land. I should have known. We had not heard it in so long. Did we forget what it sounded like? It's just...loud.
It's so craggy now. It gets steeper. The rocks are hard. But we find ways around them. There's always a way around the next boulder.
I don't want to do this anymore.
Do you know what we did with part of one of our supply-boards this waking? We lit it on fire, and watched it burn. We had a nice fire. It's dying now. They're just too heavy and useless to drag around with us. So we had a fire. Snug. Warm. In my mud-caked blanket. It felt nice.
I'm just so tired.
So we drag firewood with us. Swell.
But that's fine. Our load will get lighter and lighter.
Maybe it will feel just as heavy, though. Will we get weaker and weaker? No food, just water. We will get weaker and our load will get lighter at the same rate, so that it will always feel like the same heaviness. What a cruel joke. Ha.
The image still burns in my mind. Burns in my mind? Did I just write that? Really? For I was thinking of the fire, and fire does burn. It was... It really was a pretty thing. Like seeing an old friend that you haven't seen in a long time. Did the fire recognize us too? I wonder.
The flames flicked and curled and danced. It made me happy. The thunder didn't seem to like it. The thunder hated us for it. But the fire didn't care. It just kept dancing. It looked almost...spiteful. It danced to spite the thunder and noise. That made me happy.
It's just so noisy and I'm tired of it. I was not well-rested last sleeping. I don't know if I'll be able to sleep much this sleeping either. Or maybe I will. If I'm tired enough. I certainly feel tired enough.
Stupid thunder. Go away! I don't like you anymore. I don't know if I ever liked you. You were novel, for a time. But now we're done with you, I'm done with you. Please go away and stop. I want to sleep.
And a ghostly thought. Maybe it's Haley, and he's still angry at me for taking his book. Is that what is making the sky boom? Is it angry?
And I think to myself, You are going crazy.
And my self thinks back to me, Yes, yes, I know.
And neither I nor my self care about it.
I'm just tired.
Dear family, in case I die, finish my story. I love you.
Alexandro