Oh, you ARE sick
Jan. 7th, 2013 10:53 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
loloteheThe room was dark, but not dark enough.
Even in the pitch-black, Dana saw the warmth off her own body reflecting off objects in the room. She had stepped out of her slippers an hour ago, trying to get some cool from the floor, but the footprints were ghostly reminders of where she had been. The axolotl tank was vivid red, so many more degrees warmer than the rest of the room.
Even the main light in the room, turned all the way down, still cast an eerie shimmer. She could not turn it off and it hung, oozing a faint glow through her quarters.
Dana wanted to put her mylar contacts back in place, to cut down on the glare, but her eyes would not allow it; they were too irritated. Even shutting her eyes was no respite as she saw the vicious glow of her own feverish head.
Sleep did come, but not rest. It was mid-meal, it was last-meal, it was first-meal. It was dark and it was last-meal. What happened to mid-meal? What time was it? Of course it's dark. It's always dark.
Dana did not know where the sun was. She did not know where the station was in relation to it.
Everything in the room had a faint outline. She could not focus. Wasn't “focus” Latin for fireplace? What is a fireplace? Some source of warmth. There is heat in all things and it lingers.
Someone came into the room, but Dana didn't see who it was. Her eyes were baking shut, covered by a layer of some discharge. It was hard to breathe.
Her chest was wrapped tight, tight and eyes bright, bright, and downed and swamped and stunned blight, blight. Arms that don't move right, right. An echo and a buzz and there's a pounding as well but it's from deep as hell and far deep within and where to begin and no, no, no, it's just all wrong. All the shapes and the colors and it's a small palate to paint from, all red and brown and maybe yellow. There's a few centimeters between me and thee and thou art so far, far away. And there's a few centimeters between me and these simple trappings we call clothing and how they hang from our bodies, how our arms hang from our bodies, nothing is light anymore and the weight of it all is there, sitting on your chest, demanding something from you. “Where have you been?” it asks. “Where are you going?” it insists. Everything insists. It clamps on and cloys and cysts and cysts and insists and won't shake free but clamped in hard and firm and who is that? How many stripes does that tiger that can't change its stripes have on its arms? They look like yellow scars on a field of blue and whose flag is that? Do they even have a flag? Capture the flag. Show them who's boss. Let them know who's in charge. That God, in His infinite wisdom, saw fit to put on this earth. Oh, lo! Thou tiny and insignificant, that in thy numbers shall overwhelm....
“Are you a doctor?” Dana croaked.
Why did they turn on the light? Don't they know how horrible it is? Doesn't it blind them as well? No, trichromats, they can't see it the same way. It's hard and heavy. It's a vivid, yellow weight and it stifles everything. Dripping, dripping yellow ooze that coats everything in the room but what's wrong with their faces? Nothing makes sense.
The two figures in the room had a device with them and took Dana's temperature. Yes, she had a fever, and yes, it was high.
But have you fed my axolotls? I can't remember when I last fed them. They have to be taken care of. Please, don't let them die. This isn't their fault. They shouldn't suffer. Please, feed them. Make sure their water is clean. Don't let them die. I don't care what happens to me, but don't let them die like that.
And then the room was dark again. Dana thought she saw flicker by the tank, but could not be sure.
She could not get out of bed. Her entire body quavered and ached and she could not stand. It was dark and cold and she felt herself starting to float like—
They never wanted us, damn Vencume. They thought we were hideous and horrible. We looked nothing like them. Thought nothing like them. Ate nothing like them. They cast us off, alone and dark and cold and free-floating and maybe picked up, but only if someone thought we were worth it. Damn squid. I'll find them. I will. I'll find them and make them pay. They thought we were worthless but I'll show them.
The light in the room was watching her. She saw it blink.
Trembling, Dana pulled the sheets closer to her throat. Like a hand, griping tightly, she pulled the fingers over her, letting it clasp her tighter. She buried her face into the fold under the thumb and sobbed herself to sleep.
Even in the pitch-black, Dana saw the warmth off her own body reflecting off objects in the room. She had stepped out of her slippers an hour ago, trying to get some cool from the floor, but the footprints were ghostly reminders of where she had been. The axolotl tank was vivid red, so many more degrees warmer than the rest of the room.
Even the main light in the room, turned all the way down, still cast an eerie shimmer. She could not turn it off and it hung, oozing a faint glow through her quarters.
Dana wanted to put her mylar contacts back in place, to cut down on the glare, but her eyes would not allow it; they were too irritated. Even shutting her eyes was no respite as she saw the vicious glow of her own feverish head.
Sleep did come, but not rest. It was mid-meal, it was last-meal, it was first-meal. It was dark and it was last-meal. What happened to mid-meal? What time was it? Of course it's dark. It's always dark.
Dana did not know where the sun was. She did not know where the station was in relation to it.
Everything in the room had a faint outline. She could not focus. Wasn't “focus” Latin for fireplace? What is a fireplace? Some source of warmth. There is heat in all things and it lingers.
Someone came into the room, but Dana didn't see who it was. Her eyes were baking shut, covered by a layer of some discharge. It was hard to breathe.
Her chest was wrapped tight, tight and eyes bright, bright, and downed and swamped and stunned blight, blight. Arms that don't move right, right. An echo and a buzz and there's a pounding as well but it's from deep as hell and far deep within and where to begin and no, no, no, it's just all wrong. All the shapes and the colors and it's a small palate to paint from, all red and brown and maybe yellow. There's a few centimeters between me and thee and thou art so far, far away. And there's a few centimeters between me and these simple trappings we call clothing and how they hang from our bodies, how our arms hang from our bodies, nothing is light anymore and the weight of it all is there, sitting on your chest, demanding something from you. “Where have you been?” it asks. “Where are you going?” it insists. Everything insists. It clamps on and cloys and cysts and cysts and insists and won't shake free but clamped in hard and firm and who is that? How many stripes does that tiger that can't change its stripes have on its arms? They look like yellow scars on a field of blue and whose flag is that? Do they even have a flag? Capture the flag. Show them who's boss. Let them know who's in charge. That God, in His infinite wisdom, saw fit to put on this earth. Oh, lo! Thou tiny and insignificant, that in thy numbers shall overwhelm....
“Are you a doctor?” Dana croaked.
Why did they turn on the light? Don't they know how horrible it is? Doesn't it blind them as well? No, trichromats, they can't see it the same way. It's hard and heavy. It's a vivid, yellow weight and it stifles everything. Dripping, dripping yellow ooze that coats everything in the room but what's wrong with their faces? Nothing makes sense.
The two figures in the room had a device with them and took Dana's temperature. Yes, she had a fever, and yes, it was high.
But have you fed my axolotls? I can't remember when I last fed them. They have to be taken care of. Please, don't let them die. This isn't their fault. They shouldn't suffer. Please, feed them. Make sure their water is clean. Don't let them die. I don't care what happens to me, but don't let them die like that.
And then the room was dark again. Dana thought she saw flicker by the tank, but could not be sure.
She could not get out of bed. Her entire body quavered and ached and she could not stand. It was dark and cold and she felt herself starting to float like—
They never wanted us, damn Vencume. They thought we were hideous and horrible. We looked nothing like them. Thought nothing like them. Ate nothing like them. They cast us off, alone and dark and cold and free-floating and maybe picked up, but only if someone thought we were worth it. Damn squid. I'll find them. I will. I'll find them and make them pay. They thought we were worthless but I'll show them.
The light in the room was watching her. She saw it blink.
Trembling, Dana pulled the sheets closer to her throat. Like a hand, griping tightly, she pulled the fingers over her, letting it clasp her tighter. She buried her face into the fold under the thumb and sobbed herself to sleep.
