Static

Static is the last thing you need when you see me ~Tupac




Awareness was the first sense. Awareness of my own paralyzing terror, slick, hot, creating its own scent. This was what flooded me then filled in the details. I felt the warm softness against my cheek, plushness that held no pleasure in its presence. That breath, masking my face, dampening it with more than its own moisture.

With a slow careful cut of my glance I narrowed in on the small source of light, a saliva coated gleam only a hort away from piercing its way through, the glide of another against the channel of blood that pulsed in my throat held me deathly still. The ripple of fur along the muzzle easing back the red stained lips from the fang. The sound of the warning growl washing over me, caressing the fine hairs on the back of my neck to perfect attention.

It was a struggle to drag air into my completed lungs, agonizing inside of it to remain perfectly silent, perfectly motionless. One precise powerful plunge away from the gnash of those teeth which would sever sight, sound and life as they met. I closed my eyes and willed myself to surge upward with everything that I had. Falling through the barrier above me, forcing myself awake as if sleep itself had a death grip dragging me back in to finish the clamping of those jaws.

I sat up on my furs confused, lost, helpless in trying to understand. To untangle what was real and what was .. something else. I heard the voices of memories in tidbits of sound, like whispers in my head, swirling until they filled the inside of my wagon.

They are dreams

They are just dreams. They are just dreams. It felt like a mantra as I said it over and over again in my thoughts until it gave way to another voice.

Your dreams are powerful.

That was what all of the seers had told me .. all but one.

the past is coming

It can't be that. I have bid my past farewell in every way I know. What remnants that are left are small, lingering only in random memories. Think girl .. think. What are you afraid of?

coming through in your dreams

What could possibly be coming through my dreams?

as fear.

I'm not afraid.

There was nothing I had that was so extreme now to fear. My tests and trials were going well. Could my worry of suceeding be this intense? A bit anxious yes, but I'm not afraid.

Yes, you are but you do it anyway.

Was it acceptance by those around the fires? Could wanting and needing their approval be such a strong emotion that I felt they could snap me in the legth of a breath? They had been so overwhelmingly welcoming that at times it almost brought me to tears. Him? The yearning ache for his love in return that I could summon this kind of terror? He did not scare me like this, not in anyway that compared. What .. what fear did I have that could bring such vision to my dreams?

Free yourself

I'd faced the issues with my father. I had. I had. My mind fretting, fumbling now with all of the unturned stones that could lurk in the corners, creep from the niches.

from fear.

The dawning filled me and I felt the slow rush of breath squeeze from my constricted lungs. I knew that face. I'd seen it before. The last time ... the first time .. I had screamed, covering my eyes, covering my ears and shut out ... everything.