161 - The Morning After
Jan. 14th, 2007 05:13 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
number_eightI died.
Actually, I don't die. I never get to die. I get to die and be reborn in a new frakking body, with Cylons all around me comforting me.
The first time it happened (that I can recall, at least), I woke up coughing in a pool of bluish liquid that stuck to my body. I was naked, scared, and as I looked around for a familiar face I found... myself. Staring right back at me and telling me that everything was going to be fine.
How? How could it be fine when everything I ever knew was a lie? When all the people I loved were back on Galactica, and I had probably just killed Commander Adama? I was an "Eight", I was told by the Cylons there.
I told them I was Sharon and to go frak themselves.
It turned out that I ended up on Caprica, and I went back to my old apartment. It was familiar, at least. Yes, it was full of fake memories and lies, full of objects that a supposed family had given to me only they didn't really exist, but it was so much better than trying to live with the truth. I didn't want the truth. The truth was harsh, and bitter, and something that I wouldn't wish on anyone.
The truth was that when I died, I didn't get to thank the gods for a good death in battle. I got to wake up and scream as my hair was plastered to my body, darkness surrounding me except for this tiny pinpoint of light coming from the frakking thing that I was in. The truth is that it's going to happen to me over and over again, no matter what.
The truth is that I don't get a morning after. Ever.
Muse : "Caprica" Sharon
Fandom : Misc. TV/"Battlestar Galactica"
Word Count : 302
Actually, I don't die. I never get to die. I get to die and be reborn in a new frakking body, with Cylons all around me comforting me.
The first time it happened (that I can recall, at least), I woke up coughing in a pool of bluish liquid that stuck to my body. I was naked, scared, and as I looked around for a familiar face I found... myself. Staring right back at me and telling me that everything was going to be fine.
How? How could it be fine when everything I ever knew was a lie? When all the people I loved were back on Galactica, and I had probably just killed Commander Adama? I was an "Eight", I was told by the Cylons there.
I told them I was Sharon and to go frak themselves.
It turned out that I ended up on Caprica, and I went back to my old apartment. It was familiar, at least. Yes, it was full of fake memories and lies, full of objects that a supposed family had given to me only they didn't really exist, but it was so much better than trying to live with the truth. I didn't want the truth. The truth was harsh, and bitter, and something that I wouldn't wish on anyone.
The truth was that when I died, I didn't get to thank the gods for a good death in battle. I got to wake up and scream as my hair was plastered to my body, darkness surrounding me except for this tiny pinpoint of light coming from the frakking thing that I was in. The truth is that it's going to happen to me over and over again, no matter what.
The truth is that I don't get a morning after. Ever.
Muse : "Caprica" Sharon
Fandom : Misc. TV/"Battlestar Galactica"
Word Count : 302
