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rainbowfic2015-08-13 11:01 pm
starphotographs) wrote in rainbowfic2015-08-13 11:01 pm
Admin Yellow 5
Name: starphotographs
Story: Universe B
Supplies and Styles: Graffiti (Summer Carnival, Lilith Fair Village Stage: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pIhitVFPQD4), Nubs
Characters: Milo (POV), Kit
Colors: Admin Yellow 5 (This is my past catching up with me.)
Word Count: 812
Rating: PG-13 (Mostly just PG, but jeez, the mouths on my characters. XD)
Warnings: Choose not to warn.
Summary: Milo faces down two uncertain futures in as many days.
Note: A plot event mentioned in some Miniature Collections, but I thought it could use some expanding. (Last-minute posting brought to you by epic crank-it-out skills picked up during Dead Time. :P)
Going Home
There’s nothing left for me to do that can’t just be done to me instead.
I haven’t seen the outside since they brought me in here. Long enough for me to forget I’m not on Mars and get all disoriented.
And, with nothing to see or do, when I thought my last few good thoughts, I wasn’t able to replenish them. So I’ve been replaying these same twelveish half-formed whispers for the past several weeks. Just the most mundane shit you can imagine.
How long have I been here? My back hurts. Why am I not dead yet? I’m cold. I’m bored. I hate my lunch. Some guy down the hall coded and all the action is keeping me awake.
Did I even accomplish anything?
Because this hospital, or facility, or whatever the hell it is, is just like the plant. Just another cold, windowless space where you can forget yourself. The sterile dustless floors click the same way under everyone’s shoes, and the clean can‘t fool me. The higher ceiling doesn’t make my room feel any less like the compartment I’d sleep in when I worked double shifts.
If I knew this was how things would turn out, I never would have left.
On Mars, at least I knew I’d be going home.
*****
I think I’m going somewhere, but I’m not sure where.
The staff in this place tell me about shit-all.
What happened was, they saw how the new drug affected me, took me off it, and got me ready for the next one. While I got ready for the big drop in between.
Because that’s what this drug cycling does. I feel better, then shitty again, then a little better, then even shittier than I’d felt before.
I don’t remember everything that was said, but something gave me the idea that there’d only be one or two after this.
And then…
Well, I don’t have a fucking clue.
I know I can’t last through much more of this. Yesterday, they took one look at my lab results and hooked me up to a bag of someone else’s blood. Replacing what I’d lost over the past year and a half. The parts of myself left behind in the old sink at Iron Hills, in the showers at the plant. On last week’s sheets, spinning around in some industrial washing machine in the bowels of the building.
They can’t just keep replacing stuff forever.
I’ll test two more drugs, and then I guess I’ll be gone.
And no one outside these walls will know that I’d even been there in the first place.
*****
There was a blackout. All the shit they have me plugged in to went quiet. The ventilation system stopped humming.
My ears were ringing from the silence. With no lights and no windows, the room was totally dark. The kind of dark where you can’t even tell if your eyes are open or not.
This hadn’t happened before, at least not while I was here.
Maybe it would give me something to think about.
Then I heard someone open the door, and I wondered what the hell they wanted from me now.
They had a little flashlight, and the blue-white glow coming through the crack of the door hurt my eyes.
I blinked a few times, half-blind and disoriented.
When the flashing afterimages faded, I was looking at my brother.
He’d come all the way here, from god knows where, and I guess I was being collected.
We stared at each other for a while. Eventually, he was the first to speak.
“Hi, Milo.”
He threw his arms around me and started crying. I was shocked into numbness, and hurting from the pressure he was putting on my sore ribs, so I didn’t cry or talk or really do much of anything. Eventually, I put one arm around him, muttered “hi,” or something like that.
Then he told me we had to hurry. I didn’t even have time to tell me I couldn’t. He just grabbed me by the arm, and lead me down the hall.
Through the doors and on to outside, where the air was cool, and the grass was wet, and the moon was huge, and space stretched out on all sides.
It was too much at once. And my head was already spinning from trying to run when I couldn’t even breathe, or maybe just from standing up. My legs buckled, and down I went.
The ground here was damp and firm. I could look straight up and see all the stars, nothing but empty space and billions of miles separating me from them. No glass; no concrete.
I stared at them for a while.
Then Kit dragged me to my feet and threw me in the car.
I think I’m going somewhere, but I’m not sure where.
Maybe I’m going home.
starphotographsStory: Universe B
Supplies and Styles: Graffiti (Summer Carnival, Lilith Fair Village Stage: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pIhitVFPQD4), Nubs
Characters: Milo (POV), Kit
Colors: Admin Yellow 5 (This is my past catching up with me.)
Word Count: 812
Rating: PG-13 (Mostly just PG, but jeez, the mouths on my characters. XD)
Warnings: Choose not to warn.
Summary: Milo faces down two uncertain futures in as many days.
Note: A plot event mentioned in some Miniature Collections, but I thought it could use some expanding. (Last-minute posting brought to you by epic crank-it-out skills picked up during Dead Time. :P)
There’s nothing left for me to do that can’t just be done to me instead.
I haven’t seen the outside since they brought me in here. Long enough for me to forget I’m not on Mars and get all disoriented.
And, with nothing to see or do, when I thought my last few good thoughts, I wasn’t able to replenish them. So I’ve been replaying these same twelveish half-formed whispers for the past several weeks. Just the most mundane shit you can imagine.
How long have I been here? My back hurts. Why am I not dead yet? I’m cold. I’m bored. I hate my lunch. Some guy down the hall coded and all the action is keeping me awake.
Did I even accomplish anything?
Because this hospital, or facility, or whatever the hell it is, is just like the plant. Just another cold, windowless space where you can forget yourself. The sterile dustless floors click the same way under everyone’s shoes, and the clean can‘t fool me. The higher ceiling doesn’t make my room feel any less like the compartment I’d sleep in when I worked double shifts.
If I knew this was how things would turn out, I never would have left.
On Mars, at least I knew I’d be going home.
I think I’m going somewhere, but I’m not sure where.
The staff in this place tell me about shit-all.
What happened was, they saw how the new drug affected me, took me off it, and got me ready for the next one. While I got ready for the big drop in between.
Because that’s what this drug cycling does. I feel better, then shitty again, then a little better, then even shittier than I’d felt before.
I don’t remember everything that was said, but something gave me the idea that there’d only be one or two after this.
And then…
Well, I don’t have a fucking clue.
I know I can’t last through much more of this. Yesterday, they took one look at my lab results and hooked me up to a bag of someone else’s blood. Replacing what I’d lost over the past year and a half. The parts of myself left behind in the old sink at Iron Hills, in the showers at the plant. On last week’s sheets, spinning around in some industrial washing machine in the bowels of the building.
They can’t just keep replacing stuff forever.
I’ll test two more drugs, and then I guess I’ll be gone.
And no one outside these walls will know that I’d even been there in the first place.
There was a blackout. All the shit they have me plugged in to went quiet. The ventilation system stopped humming.
My ears were ringing from the silence. With no lights and no windows, the room was totally dark. The kind of dark where you can’t even tell if your eyes are open or not.
This hadn’t happened before, at least not while I was here.
Maybe it would give me something to think about.
Then I heard someone open the door, and I wondered what the hell they wanted from me now.
They had a little flashlight, and the blue-white glow coming through the crack of the door hurt my eyes.
I blinked a few times, half-blind and disoriented.
When the flashing afterimages faded, I was looking at my brother.
He’d come all the way here, from god knows where, and I guess I was being collected.
We stared at each other for a while. Eventually, he was the first to speak.
“Hi, Milo.”
He threw his arms around me and started crying. I was shocked into numbness, and hurting from the pressure he was putting on my sore ribs, so I didn’t cry or talk or really do much of anything. Eventually, I put one arm around him, muttered “hi,” or something like that.
Then he told me we had to hurry. I didn’t even have time to tell me I couldn’t. He just grabbed me by the arm, and lead me down the hall.
Through the doors and on to outside, where the air was cool, and the grass was wet, and the moon was huge, and space stretched out on all sides.
It was too much at once. And my head was already spinning from trying to run when I couldn’t even breathe, or maybe just from standing up. My legs buckled, and down I went.
The ground here was damp and firm. I could look straight up and see all the stars, nothing but empty space and billions of miles separating me from them. No glass; no concrete.
I stared at them for a while.
Then Kit dragged me to my feet and threw me in the car.
I think I’m going somewhere, but I’m not sure where.
Maybe I’m going home.
no subject
no subject
Did I even accomplish anything?
Yeah, kid. I think you did good.
no subject
no subject