kawa~ inspiration #27
Jan. 21st, 2005 12:13 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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yrae
Title~ Reminiscing
Author~ Annarti
Disclaimer~ All mine
Notes~ kawa~ inspiration #27. Bit shorter than usual, but I don't really give a stuff, so you shouldn't either =3
~ ~ ~
Yamin’s eyes snapped open at the sound of screaming, then clenched them shut, blinking away tears when she realised the screaming was her own. She drew her knees up to her chin, shivering under the covers. Whether from the harsh chill of a mid-Winter night or from the sobs that racked her body, she couldn’t tell.
She thought she’d seen the last of that nightmare years ago, but that black, winged silhouette against a sky just as dark had returned to haunt her, sith seemingly no provocation. The memory of the figure, from life now, rather than merely the dream, drifted back into her vision, snapping her eyes open to stare at the nearly-full moon and banish it again. She wouldn’t sleep for hours now.
She kicked her legs around and sat on the edge of the bed, then stood and walked to the window, blankets wrapped tightly around her. The stone floor was icy cold beneath her toes.
It was still perfectly dark outside, with no indication that dawn was nearing. The only movement was the deceptively sluggish current of the Ra-Lin, a rippling mirror of the sky above. Not even the very tops of the trees moved.
Yamin yawned, suddenly tired, and her eyes drifted closed as she knelt at the window. Again, the shadowy figure appeared, flashing a dark grin at her. She whined quietly, hiding needlessly under her arms and staring wide-eyed at the courtyard below.
Inevitably, her eyes drifted towards the tower opposite hers, where Nimay slept.
Did she envy her sister for not being able to remember the night, and have even her dreams cursed by it? It was a question she’d asked herself on a number of occasions. Sometimes, she did. But most often, she was glad she wasn’t left to wonder. Nimay must know something unusual had happened to give her the stone. Even if that didn’t worry her, the fact that she knew nothing of her parents must trouble her often, perhaps even more than Yamin’s memories troubled her.
She smiled whimsically at her sister’s window, fondly remembering their childhood together. Picking honey ants from the lines of them that marched through the dust. Chasing ginger-coloured cats through the streets. Sneaking tastes at their mother’s cooking while she wasn’t watching. Trying and failing to get their mother to confuse their names, then giggling when their father did it anyway.
Nimay could be told these things, but she would never remember them as part of her own life. That much, Yamin most definitely didn’t envy.
Author~ Annarti
Disclaimer~ All mine
Notes~ kawa~ inspiration #27. Bit shorter than usual, but I don't really give a stuff, so you shouldn't either =3
Yamin’s eyes snapped open at the sound of screaming, then clenched them shut, blinking away tears when she realised the screaming was her own. She drew her knees up to her chin, shivering under the covers. Whether from the harsh chill of a mid-Winter night or from the sobs that racked her body, she couldn’t tell.
She thought she’d seen the last of that nightmare years ago, but that black, winged silhouette against a sky just as dark had returned to haunt her, sith seemingly no provocation. The memory of the figure, from life now, rather than merely the dream, drifted back into her vision, snapping her eyes open to stare at the nearly-full moon and banish it again. She wouldn’t sleep for hours now.
She kicked her legs around and sat on the edge of the bed, then stood and walked to the window, blankets wrapped tightly around her. The stone floor was icy cold beneath her toes.
It was still perfectly dark outside, with no indication that dawn was nearing. The only movement was the deceptively sluggish current of the Ra-Lin, a rippling mirror of the sky above. Not even the very tops of the trees moved.
Yamin yawned, suddenly tired, and her eyes drifted closed as she knelt at the window. Again, the shadowy figure appeared, flashing a dark grin at her. She whined quietly, hiding needlessly under her arms and staring wide-eyed at the courtyard below.
Inevitably, her eyes drifted towards the tower opposite hers, where Nimay slept.
Did she envy her sister for not being able to remember the night, and have even her dreams cursed by it? It was a question she’d asked herself on a number of occasions. Sometimes, she did. But most often, she was glad she wasn’t left to wonder. Nimay must know something unusual had happened to give her the stone. Even if that didn’t worry her, the fact that she knew nothing of her parents must trouble her often, perhaps even more than Yamin’s memories troubled her.
She smiled whimsically at her sister’s window, fondly remembering their childhood together. Picking honey ants from the lines of them that marched through the dust. Chasing ginger-coloured cats through the streets. Sneaking tastes at their mother’s cooking while she wasn’t watching. Trying and failing to get their mother to confuse their names, then giggling when their father did it anyway.
Nimay could be told these things, but she would never remember them as part of her own life. That much, Yamin most definitely didn’t envy.