Post by Rogue on Mar 24, 2010 21:05:33 GMT -5
Rogue had always wanted a normal life.
An adventure to Alaska after school, leaving with her boyfriend in the middle of the night, catching a bus to nowhere. It wasn't that she hated where she was; her parents were nice, her house was nice, it was all too...nice. She wanted a life, to live somehow, someway before the real world set in, before college swallowed her, before she became an adult. A flash-fire, a way to watch the world burn before the it took over her life. She planned for it- a map in her room, a bag packed by the door. She imagined coming back home, souvenirs from different places packed in her bag, a camera full of pictures in her pocket.
The flash-fire was a forgotten dream, after Liberty Island, and the real world was left feeling too distant to be real. It was all around her, moving and going it's own way, and she was left stranded. She could have stopped and touched it before, but now she was an observer, watching everyone move around her but cut off from it, as if it were behind a permanent pane of glass, or a camera lens. At least with the camera, she could control what she saw, even if she didn't feel like a part of it. She was a forced observer, but it gave her what she wanted now: a means to disappear. Cameras saw everything, but if you stayed in the right place, no one saw you. It was easier that way, for her, for everyone.
Problem was, there were others who had the same idea, even if they didn't have a camera with them.
It happened on her way up to the roof of a closed up building, climbing stairs littered with trash. Someone had broken in before her- all she wanted was a place where she could see everything, then find something to zoom in on, where she could be away from everyone. The problem was absurdly simple- she had a hard time working the camera with her gloves on.
The stairs were dark, it was hard to see what was coming around a corner, and she didn't expect anyone to be here. And all it took was a glancing blow. The guy coming around the corner didn't see her, either.
They collided so hard she fell down half a flight, but that wasn't half the problem. He'd fallen with her, head over heels, and she cracked her head on the wall and saw stars as they stopped falling at the landing. It wasn't very much contact, or for very long, but it was enough.
The stranger didn't get up; he was unconscious, and she didn't stop to see if he was alive. She couldn't remember that she might have cared.
The memories came immediately of course, and they were disjointed, heavy and foggy with drugs and booze. An ex-wife, two kids who hated him, a lost job- another city sob story, and she cleared her way through it, sitting prone at the bottom of the stairs. But what came next was completely wrong.
There were other voices, but no people. Eyes in darkness. She couldn't block them out. But she was being watched, she was sure of it. They were EVERYWHERE.
She got up, screaming, running from what she saw, tripping over the prone stranger on the stairs, falling down and getting up again, the camera swinging around her neck.
Gogogogogo there, look there they are, coming to get you Marie...coming...run... Out on the street it was worse, the staring eyes multiplied, and she fled down the street, tripped and landed by a fire hydrant. Blood in her eyes. She blinked hard once, and then the world left.
An adventure to Alaska after school, leaving with her boyfriend in the middle of the night, catching a bus to nowhere. It wasn't that she hated where she was; her parents were nice, her house was nice, it was all too...nice. She wanted a life, to live somehow, someway before the real world set in, before college swallowed her, before she became an adult. A flash-fire, a way to watch the world burn before the it took over her life. She planned for it- a map in her room, a bag packed by the door. She imagined coming back home, souvenirs from different places packed in her bag, a camera full of pictures in her pocket.
The flash-fire was a forgotten dream, after Liberty Island, and the real world was left feeling too distant to be real. It was all around her, moving and going it's own way, and she was left stranded. She could have stopped and touched it before, but now she was an observer, watching everyone move around her but cut off from it, as if it were behind a permanent pane of glass, or a camera lens. At least with the camera, she could control what she saw, even if she didn't feel like a part of it. She was a forced observer, but it gave her what she wanted now: a means to disappear. Cameras saw everything, but if you stayed in the right place, no one saw you. It was easier that way, for her, for everyone.
Problem was, there were others who had the same idea, even if they didn't have a camera with them.
It happened on her way up to the roof of a closed up building, climbing stairs littered with trash. Someone had broken in before her- all she wanted was a place where she could see everything, then find something to zoom in on, where she could be away from everyone. The problem was absurdly simple- she had a hard time working the camera with her gloves on.
The stairs were dark, it was hard to see what was coming around a corner, and she didn't expect anyone to be here. And all it took was a glancing blow. The guy coming around the corner didn't see her, either.
They collided so hard she fell down half a flight, but that wasn't half the problem. He'd fallen with her, head over heels, and she cracked her head on the wall and saw stars as they stopped falling at the landing. It wasn't very much contact, or for very long, but it was enough.
The stranger didn't get up; he was unconscious, and she didn't stop to see if he was alive. She couldn't remember that she might have cared.
The memories came immediately of course, and they were disjointed, heavy and foggy with drugs and booze. An ex-wife, two kids who hated him, a lost job- another city sob story, and she cleared her way through it, sitting prone at the bottom of the stairs. But what came next was completely wrong.
There were other voices, but no people. Eyes in darkness. She couldn't block them out. But she was being watched, she was sure of it. They were EVERYWHERE.
She got up, screaming, running from what she saw, tripping over the prone stranger on the stairs, falling down and getting up again, the camera swinging around her neck.
Gogogogogo there, look there they are, coming to get you Marie...coming...run... Out on the street it was worse, the staring eyes multiplied, and she fled down the street, tripped and landed by a fire hydrant. Blood in her eyes. She blinked hard once, and then the world left.
