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Author Topic: between dreams & reality (open, sorta)  (Read 604 times)

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Anonymous

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between dreams & reality (open, sorta)
« on: May 01, 2012, 04:29:46 pm »
Three years ago.  
The Citadel.


"Have you been dreaming?" The doctor asked as he watched her over the brim over his glasses, "You said last time that you had been dreaming."

Seven paused, thoughtful, and tipped her head to the side.  Wisps of silvery-white hair, not bound in a thick braid, fanned across her regal face.  "Yes." Another pause, her plump mouth quivered and for a moment it seemed like she may have expressed any emotion.  She stilled herself.  "I dreamed that I died."

"Again?"  Curious now, the doctor furrowed his brow and leaned forward with clipboard in his lap, and his hands on knees with arms akimbo.  "In our last session, you told me about a dream where you died.  How was it again..." His voice trailed off, he rattled around the memory in his mind, but before he could speak, Seven interjected.

"I was torn apart by a pack of wolves."  

She could hear them breathing.  The men behind her, observing the result of countless financial and scientific resources, seemed restless after she spoke.  Unsettled by her.  They were always nervous.  The more time they spent around her, the more anxious they became.  She had heard their whispers of "unnatural" and "abomination" but she paid them little heed, she accepted what she was.

"It is the only dream I ever have," she conceded, "Every night, I dream I die."

The doctor held his breath, there was a stillness in the room, and after a pregnant pause sighed, "It seems like more of a nightmare."

"Or perhaps a memory.  Maybe I am already dead.  Maybe I died years ago, but never realized it." Her tone was dull, disinterested in even her own words, and she tipped a look over her shoulder to the men behind her.  That black eye felt like a knife in the gut of the crowd, but her mouth cut a smirk.  "Don't worry, I'm not getting all existential on you.  I know my place.  I'll die when you tell me I can."

No malice, no snark.  She stood and tipped her head to the doctor.  "Dear Doctor, good-bye."  Then turned on a heel and moved straight out the door and into the hall, never casting a look to the men; she didn't need to, she could smell their fear.
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