2014.02.17:Liesl's Awakening

Liesl's Awakening
Horrible Headaches, Bad Dreams ... what now?

Log

Late afternoon, pushing into evening. Liesl arrives home, making her way through the apartment; after shedding backpack and laptop bag in the living room, she enters the bedroom where she proceeds to change out of the clothes she wore to school, and into something a lot more comfortable, and not nearly so presentable. She remains barefooted.

Ah home. Food. Rest. Maybe some studying? If only those darned headaches would leave you alone. You can feel one coming on; they've been happening more frequently lately. A cicadia-like buzzing in your left ear, and that underlying feeling of pressure that you sometimes feel on a particularly hot and humid summer day, just before the skies open up. It's slightly disorienting, like vertigo without the feeling of falling. The cool floor feels nice on your feet though.

The headaches have been terrible, actually, and Liesl heads for the bathroom to gather a handful of the pain killer du jour. Nothing stronger than aspirin or ibuprofen, though she's promised to visit the doctor in the next couple of days, if they persist. She swallows down the pills with a glassful of water. Looks at herself in the mirror, to study the progress of the bags under her eyes.

The pain is migrating to the back of your skull like a head full of sparrows when you pop the pills. The buzzing is still in your left ear but suddenly stops when you take a moment to look at yourself in the mirror. A stranger looks back at you for a second, gone in a blink.

Liesl takes another moment to stare into the mirror. Then, she just shakes her head. It's not like she could be absolutely certain of what she saw, especially with it gone so fast. And, it hasn't repeated itself. She'll just tell herself she didn't see anything. Maybe a brief rest before getting anything else done. Yes. She stretches herself out on the bed, arranges the pillows beneath her head, and closes her eyes.

The headache persists. Your face flushes slightly as impending pain brings blood to its surface. Sleep. Sleep is a good idea. Soft bed. Pillows. Comfort. It's been a long day. There's still a feeling, like a flock of bird fighting for nesting rights in your cranium, but it mutes into the background when your head hits the pillow. Aw. Yeah. That's nice.

And do you fall asleep? Dream? Just lie there thinking about midterms and good sex?

Sleep. Sure. Not like she hasn't done this fairly often. And, she'll likely wake up soon, or be woken up. She can't help but smile a little, thinking of previous times that she'd been woken up. But, it fades away, as the buzzy fades, too. And, she sleeps. Not a heavy sleep, the sort that leaves one more exhausted than before, but one where she drifts in and out, some of her thoughts are conscious, some must surely be dreams.

Sleep. It starts out in your neck, as you feel the tension there suddenly just let go, the feeling continues, unzipping your spine and laying waste to consciousness. Next there's that feeling of drifting, kind of like the sensation of floating on an air mattress on the surface of a lake. Warm and fuzzy, like an afternoon at the beach. The sense of you - the /you/ that you're aware of - fades, replaced by something vague. A feeling? A memory? Call it a dream. What moment does that smile come from? What memory tips up your lips that way?

As Liesl fades away, even from her own dreams, she finds herself ... no, she doesn't. She's nothing now, not even much of an observer. But, there's ... Sensations? Emotions? Premonitions?

<<<<<RIIiiiIING!>>>>> The ringing in your ears starts up again, this time with a vengence! No wait, it's one of those old alarm clocks. No wait, it's your morning alarm, telling you that it's time to wake up. You really don't feel any more refreshed that you did before going to bed. At least your headache is gone.

Liesl's eyes fly open at the insistence of the alarm. Funny, her alarm doesn't really sound like that, but then, yes, that's her alarm, and awake she is, yawning, stretching, reaching first to turn off the alarm, then over to the other side of the bed, already anticipating disappointment.

<<Twap!>> <<Twap!Thwap!>> Something hits the window. Then another. And one more. Three coronas of blood where the (was it birds?) impacted. Yeah, one of those days.

Liesl sits up and squints over at the window, at the blood-bursts, staring for a long moment. She turns to look at the other side of the bed, then back to the window. She makes a mental note to let maintenance know about the suicidal birds.

You see something fall past your eyes then feel the contact of something moist as it spatters against your left foot. A weird day for sure.

Liesl starts to look down. Then stops, then seems to have an argument with herself. Look. No, don't look. Look, see what it is. No, why would you want to see that? It's gross. How do you know? Because it feels gross. Look. She looks.

More blood. A smattering in fact, exploded upon the big toe of your left foot in fact. In fact there's blood on your toe. Blood. Left Toe. It's there. It fell from the ceiling. (no, don't look).

Don't look. Don't. Look. Why is there blood on the ceiling? Don't. Look. Where did the blood come from? Don't. Look. There is blood dripping from the ceiling! Don't. Look. On My Toe! Don't! Look! I'M GOING TO LOOK!

Nothing.

It's a bit anti-climatic, really.

There's nothing there.

Check again.

Still nothing. The windows though?

... .

They're still covered with blood. Maybe the blood somehow...? That'd be crazy though, right?

Crazy. Sure. Maybe gravity isn't behaving. No, gravity always behaves. Everything behaves. It just might be behaving in a way that is ... unexpected. Watch that window. Is it getting oozy on this side? Stare, stare, stare.

The window is fi-- Well, the window is /not/ fine. It's bleeding. In three places. The window has been wounded. Perhaps mortally so. What a strange thing to think.

It's bleeding. And it's dripping. Maybe. On her big toe. Liesl slips off the bed, twitching the covers up into place. She stands? Ponders. Still staring at the bleeding window. The mortally wounded window.

Mortally. When things are dire the word mortal often seems to be in attendance. It's a strange coincidence. 'He shuffled off the mortal coil.' It sounds like someone slipped and had a severe burn accident from the stove. Burns can be truly dreadful things. It's not just the wound itself, but the violation of the skin leaves one open to diseases. That's how they get in. Through the skin. Luckily your windows held. You're still inside. Safe. You hear another crash from outside! Things become positively Hitchcockian!

More birds? Study the window, is that where the crash is coming from? Look. Don't look! Look, show me. Don't look. Look!

More birds! Crashing into windows, dully thumping against brick walls. They're everywhere. And not just birds. Frogs! Amphibians fall from the sky, raining towards the Earth and making little red blotches everywhere they touch down. Not all of them though. One smacks against the window that you're looking out of, right next to your face! <<poink>> It stares at you with unreadable intent. Just stares. Then you'd swear it was smiling at you. Something wide, proud, and right out of the abyss. Its impossibly long tongue flicks out from its mouth and licks the glass in front of your lips.

And then you wake up!

You wake up. Your alarm (the normal one) is sounding, the sun is shining. And no shenanigans with birds and/or frogs.

Liesl reaches over to shut off the alarm, then reaches out to the other side of the bed, prepared to be disappointed. Deja vu? She pauses, not finishing, not looking, and sits up, sliding out of bed, twitching the covers up into place. She moves towards the window, to study it at close range. Why? She also affords the ceiling a glance as she crosses the room.

Nothing. Nothing. Nothing! Does that make you feel relieved or disappointed? It's not a gloriously sunny day but the sky shows the promise of a warm and partly cloudy day: the kind of weather that's nice to walk in... if you like that sort of thing. Do you?

Liesl studies the outside. Studies the unbesmirched window, studies outside again. It does look like a nice day for a walk. And walking is something she hasn't done for awhile, but does enjoy. And with no headache to distract, this might be a good time to go.

It might be. But where to go? So many places to choose from. Where do you feel like walking today? Breakfast? No breakfast? Get it on the way? Shower first, or after? It's amazing just how many decisions we have to make in a single day, isn't it?

Lots of decisions, Walk to ... decide later. Breakfast? Maybe stop in at that wonderful pastry shop just north of here. Yes, that's a place to walk. Shower? No shower the night before, better take one. No, wait, if she's going for a walk, she'll want one when she gets home. So, now, Liesl just needs to decide what to wear. Jeans, tee shirt and boots. Jeans have pockets, so she won't need her purse.

There you go. See how normal life can be? Is there anything better than taking a stroll down the street to try out some baked goods? Life doesn't need to be complicated to be enjoyable. Sometimes routine can be just the thing to relieve stress. We know what happens when children are faced with too many choices, after all? What a strange thing to think. (again)

Routine ... there's nothing routine about this morning. Morning? Liesl ponders her (?) thoughts. Stress, yes. Routine? No. Life doesn't need to be complicated, sure. But, too much 'not complicated', and one can get bored. Too many choices? Children or adult, choices still need to be broken down. But choices are necessary. She's arguing with herself. (again)

Arguing with yourself? That's the way to figure things out. Or a sure sign that you're going insane. Oh, there's that headache again. Bet you thought that it was gone, didn't you? Okay, maybe you know better. Maybe you're one of those people where the cup is always half empty, no matter that it's topped full of liquid and spilling onto the floor. Messy. Wasteful. And kind of miserable. Is that you? Ow. Better get that head looked at. Wouldn't want anything to spill out now would we?

Liesl isn't the pessimist sort. And she's quite aware that overflowing does not equal half empty. And yeah, there's that headache again. She give it an internal glare - at least, that's what she feels like she is doing - and addresses it as though that is the argumentative counterpart to her thoughts. 'Just go away, stop being so contrary.' Not out loud, she's not arguing with herself out loud. (yet)

Just go away? Oh, aren't you the cutest? If only life would respond that way? Just go away. Then >>poof<< Gone. Wouldn't that be wonderful? But that's Santa magic, and only happens in movies. Right?

Liesl is as surprised as anyone when the headache goes away, But, 'Good, and stay out,' she says (with her inside-the-head voice). She looks for her purse, takes out the things she'll need for her walk - ID, some money. Her phone. Things go into pockets. Keys. Can't forget the keys. Apartment keys get tucked into another pocket, and then she's ready to go.

Ah, yes. Go. Are you ready? To go? Wouldn't that depend on where the next step will lead? Why are you having an internal dialogue with yourself over things today? You've got everything you need. Ready? All set? There's nothing left to do then... but go.

Liesl usually does have a bit of a conversation with herself, mainly things like checklists, or reminders. But she's usually not ... a bully. A sweater is grabbed from the closet by the door, and she slips it on as she slips out the door. She tries to ignore herself (herself? Maybe she is going nuts. Maybe she needs to see a different sort of doctor? No!) as she locks the door, and heads down the stairs - if she's going to be healthy and walk to get (unhealthy) pastry, stairs are better than the elevator.

Bully? Think nudger. A nudge here. A nudge there. Soon you find yourself straying, and before you know it you find yourself in a place that's completely different than the one that you intended to be in. But that's a little bit like adventure, don't you think? We're ready when you are. Poor, confused, Delta. Ah, there you go. Walking. Taking the stairs? That's a dangerous endeavor. You wouldn't believe just how many people are found dead at the bottoms of these things. Watch that step.

Bully, noodge, what's the difference? (Yeah, there was the Jewish nanny, too.) Adventure is all well and good, and while the pastry shop isn't the entire walk she intends to take, it is the first place she wants to go. Stairs. Dangerous. Check. Elevators - do you know how many people get caught in those things, or how often they fail, and plummet people to their death? No? She doesn't either. Three sets of stairs, then through the door to the lobby.

See? Now you're doing it. Talking to yourself. Well, you must have been doing it before, for if not you, then who? Ooh, boy, this looks terribly bad for you, my dear. You're right about elevator shafts. You wouldn't believe the mess that a body makes... oh, maybe you would... yes, exactly; glasses aren't the only things that can overflow. Sometimes things just shatter. And it's a looong way down from here. The stairs it is. There. Outside. It's still a bit cloudy, but better than the alternative, eh?

Alternative? Like there's only one? Yes, Liesl admits to herself, she is definitely talking to herself. Not out loud, not that. (yet) But, this is a full fledged conversation about something that isn't even about remembering to take the trash out. (Did she remember to take the trash out? No, Velok probably did. He's really good about that sort of thing.) Once out on the sidewalk, she turns herself northward, pastry on her mind.

Hey, you went there. Not me. Which is you. Okay, you're right; there are more alternatives. A legion of them, in fact. Would you choose something different for yourself? And don't worry about the trash. It's taken care of. *snicker* Is it bad when you start laughing inside of your head? Surely it can't be good. How's the head, by the way? Oh. Sorry to hear. That tends to be the way with headaches. At least lately. At least for you. Quite right though; onwards; towards pastry. It must be good, it's been on your mind all morning. Well, since you woke up. Mind the frog.

Alternate weather? Nah, this is fine. Just cool enough for a sweater, cool enough that a walk doesn't degenerate into dripping from every pore. Yes, the trash is taken care of, and just /what/ is so darn funny? She's not the one laughing. Right? And when did that headache sneak back in. 'Go. Away.' she tells it again. 'I told you already.' It worked before. And why would there be a /frog/? Seriously?

The frog makes a motion with its right forelimb. An image of a bull pawing at the ground flashes into your mind's eye just then. It vanishes just as fast. You know what comes next. (don't look up)

Liesl does? She looks up.

The Sun. No clouds. Just perfect brightness and blue skies. Heavenly. But it never lasts. The sun begins to expand. People around you stop. Stare. Start to panic. The ground begins to shake.

Liesl is more pissed than frightened at this point. What happened to the clouds? The cool day? The morning pastry that she really would like to have? She glares at the sun, the same way she'd glared at her headache (neat trick, that). 'Stop that!' Still with the inside-the-head voice. She's pretty sure she's not really awake right now. She's still really up in her apartment, and having this really odd dream. The earthquake (nothing new for California) gets a stomp of her booted foot. 'Stop that!' - also in the inside-the-head voice.

No go! It's happening. The sky gets brighter and brighter, searing the air with the heat of an inferno. The quake becomes even more violent. People start to lose their footing. Things begin to crash! Cracks appear in the sidewalk in front of you. Pieces of masonry fall and smash against the ground.

"No!" Now she's talking out loud. Or screaming, as the case may be. What the hell is going on? Shaking a fist at the sun, she does her best to keep her balance, and find a doorway, the spot you're supposed to get into when a quake occurs.

The ground heaves up! Bursts open! Cars are pushed side. And start to roll. Other people are screaming as well. Panic everywhere. Chaos. Building start to crumble. There's a moment of that horrible image of the Twin Towers collapsing. People jumping out to save themselves. Terrible, horrible images. Only it's right here. Happening. Right now!

Time to wake up, then. Because this is NOT happening. Not now. Not here. This. Is. Not. Happening. Not.

A building down the street collapses. There's a rumble, followed by a wave of debris and dust. The air gets hotter. You can barely breath. A chasm opens up in front of you. People fall in.

Shaking going on too long. Too hot. Too ... unreal. So, think. Dream? Probably. So. Wake up! I'm trying! If not a dream, what then? Hallucination? Maybe, but what from? Think, what did you eat or drink? Nothing, the headache ... oh wait, there were the pills in the bathroom. Just over the counter stuff. Water to wash them down. Something in the water supply? And where's that noodge? Why think about that extra voice now?

An image of your father in his office, suddenly alert. He looks up (don't look up!) and the ceiling caves in on him. Gone. Club 215: packed full. Your friends are there. Dancing. Having a good time. The quake hits. People rush for the exits. Bodies being trampled. Velok: ... (no. don't think about him) You think of your mother and suddenly catch the image of her, crushed in a car. Of people jumping again. This time from their perspective. Better to jump and risk the fall than face certain death up here! You take a step fowards (it all depends on your destination). Poor, confused, Delta. People are dying all around you. It's getting hard to breath. Panic! Screams! Run! Hide! DO SOMETHING!!!

Delta? Delta... plane? No. Delta ... waterways? No. Delta .... difference? Maybe. A moment for a thought. Step forward ....

You fall inside the rabbit hole. Sorry, it had to be done.

Falling.

Darkness.

It's dark.

The dust has settled.

You're on a ledge somewhere.

Nothing is broken.

Nothing broken? What about her mind? That's gotta be broken now. Dark. Feel around. Ledge. Okay, wall to one side, nothing to the other. More ledge in the other directions. How far? How deep? Look u... don't look up. Look down?

No. Down is far worse. Don't look down. That song by R.E.M. comes to mind. Have you heard it before? 'It's the end of the world as you know it...' Well, close enough. Still, something horrible is brewing. And oh, so quiet. Shhh. Shhh. Shhh.

Yeah, bad song to get caught in your head right now. But, she'll either wake up and shake her head over the truly bizarre dream she had, or this is just her life having taken an extreme left through a mobius strip, into a klein bottle. She tries to dismiss the song, and listen ... listen to the quiet.

Moebius strip? Don't be so one-dimensional. At least you've landed safely. And if not exactly on your feet at least you have two legs to stand on. The quiet? Well, hardly a whisper from the quiet. Kind of nice after all that hustle and bustle of a moment ago, non? Non? Maybe you're in Paris?

One dimensional? That would merely be a single point. And that's not a mobius strip. She's having arguments again. Well, that's almost a comfort now. She gets her legs under her, and slowly stands, using the wall to steady herself, give her something as reference. Paris? Where does that come from? Why would Paris be quiet? Paris. Why is she thinking of Paris?

One surface. One edge. A single point isn't on the dimensional scale. One hardly pays any attention to it, in fact... until the blood starts pouring. Oh yes, you thought that I'd forgotten about that? And, a comfort? Aren't you the sweet one? But Paris? That had to do with the use of French my dear. Or ma chere if you prefer. Languages have always come easy to me. So, darling one, have you figured it all out yet? If you have, please tell me; I've been working on it like a Sunday Times Crossword.

Liesl presses herself back against the wall as she gets a sudden touch of vertigo. Ooookay, that's more that a disjointed conversation. Definitely. Figured it out? 'I'm not the only one in here.' Not a question. Not at all.

Something in the darkness. Movement. There. Nothing. You feel like you're being watched. And where did that stench come from?

Where /did/ it come from? From whatever is watching? Where? What is out there? Move? Which way?

Don't move. You'll only encourage it to come closer. Do you want the teaser? I can show you. Enlightenment has always been my thing, despite what my detractors say. You won't like it, but I've seen you doing things that you're not supposed to: a curious little Pandora you are.

Don't move? Encourage it? What /is/ it? Teaser? You are the teaser! Show me ... what? What won't I like? If you've watched me, then you know I don't like this!

Teaser? Me!? Oh, I really am. I can't help it my darling. I'm very much the queen you see. High drama. Smoke and Brimstone. All that.

You don't seem surprised? Are you? Shall I turn on the light and see just how surprised you can be?

And yes, I know that you don't like this. I *know*. But like father Magillicutty said to little Timmy: 'this is for your own good'.

<click>

And Then There Was Light!

And if Light walked on two legs and looked like a man he'd be the being directly in front of you. "Please allow me to introduce myself, I'm a man of wealth and taste.." *chuckle-chuckle*

Surprise? Uhm. You really do have a flair for understatement, don't you?

Perfect lips form a perfect smile. "Understatement is one my very favorites." "Yes it's bad that you caught me with someone else while we were on our honeymoon, but it didn't /mean/ anything." A shrug. "Now. The Teaser. Look." Part of the Light (don't say the /other/ L word, okay, say it, you know that you want to. Be *bad*) separates, extends, becomes a dim glow. You see something lurking in the shadows, a few feet beyond. Something old, mishapen, vile. It turns its blood-red glowing eyes to stare at you. "They're almost always under the bed when you think that they are," he illuminates.

"And when they're not, they're in the closet?" Monsters weren't really amongst her childhood fears, for whatever reason. But, this one does look very vile. And it reeks.

Corners of a mouth slide upwards. Lips part. Teeth show. For some reason you can't focus on anything other than his (you feel it's a he, even though it shifts sometimes) mouth right now. And you've already forgotten what the rest of him looked like. "I knew that you'd be a quick study," he says proudly (is there any other way for him?) The dim glow gets sucked back into The Light and the beast fades into darkness. It's quiet for a time. "Lilith," he tells you. "They think it was me but anger and a woman scorned, you know." More silence. Where there ever lips more perfect than his? "You'll need a tower," he tells you.

Then the light goes out.

You hear the sound of your alarm going off.