Disclaimer: Domino isnt mine. And thats that.
Note: Okay, I have *never* attempted to write Dom before, so be gentle. To tell you the truth, I didnt really know she was the one narrating this until both Em and Threnody pointed it out (lovely wonderful people that they are). I guess it's PG for mild swearing. Also, I think I let a tad too much of myself bleed into this thing, so even if you hate it, try not to crush me *too* much? Eh..will you listen to me? Im not a spineless jellyfish normally. Anyway, just read, as these notes are threatening to be longer than the story.
Another thank you to Em for the title.
Itd dark out there. Well, its night, so I guess it explains it, though my mind doesnt even seem able to grasp the concept of night is dark at the moment. Im too strung out and too exhausted at the same moment, the last tendrils of the adrenaline high fettering out, making me unbelievably tired.
Sleep wont come. Its not just the wind outside, howling under the eves. Its not the rain slapping at the window. And amazingly enough, its not the empty space beside me in the bed. Im used to that by now. I guess its the cold. Doesnt matter that Ive got the blanket wrapped around me, pulled up to my chin, and to tell you the truth, the room isnt even that chilly. Its the cold within thats eating at me. So cold it burns like licking tongues of flame. I swear under my breath. Its a poor time for my conscience to come back to haunt me. Like it isnt bad enough the nightmares have come to plague my sleep these last few weeks. As if the images of blood and death, the mind numbing half-remembered terror werent payment enough.
What the hell am I doing? Sitting here in the dark stewing in my own self-pity and remorse isnt going to do me a damned bit of good. I should lay down again and try for some measure of sleep. Maybe I would, if I could be sure Id just drop off into blackness, fall into an over-exhausted dead sleep, blissfully unperturbed by haunting memories. But Ive got no such reassurance, and I refuse to give into the darkness.
Guess Im just too damned
stubborn for my own good. I laugh despite myself. Its a
bitter, sarcastic laugh. Ive always been too stubborn for
my own good. I cant count the number of times when giving
in would have made things easier on me. But I couldnt. And
I guess Id rather take the hard road into hell than just
lay down and die.
Yes, I know its a coping mechanism. So is my bitterness, my sarcasm. I know Im emotionally detached. Ive had to be, with the life Ive led. Its so much easier not to feel. But I can only cheat myself for so long. I end up getting stressed out and before I know it all those stopped up emotions come back in my face. Maybe thats why Ive been having the nightmares. Ive been ignoring those feelings for so long consciously that theyve decided to be subversive and attack me at the only time Im completely defenseless.
I start to laugh again. Softly at first, then louder and more hysterical. I hear myself in a sort of detached way, and I realize Im scaring myself as the laughter degenerates into sobs. Huge, body-wracking sobs that leave me grasping for breath. I just cussed out my own emotions. My how the mighty have fallen.
I smile wryly to myself. I suppose the fact that some of the things Ive done occasionally come back to haunt me is a good thing. I wouldnt be human if they didnt. And there is no greater evil in the world than a remorseless killer. So at least I have that comfort. With a shaky hand, I reach out to wipe away the tears on my face before I realize I havent shed any. I shake my head sadly. I may still have my regrets, but I cried myself out a long time ago. So long ago that I cant really remember it. Not that it matters when, really. I stopped feeling sorry for myself a long time ago. I realized that my life was my own, that I had chosen my actions, even if I hadnt really chosen the life. Fate works in mysterious ways that Im not even going to pretend I understand. The fact remains that I am what I am. I cant change the past and its a bit to late to be contemplating the what ifs and if onlys.
I silently berate myself for acting like a petulant child and tell myself to buckle down for another sleepless night. I can feel my stubborn streak rise to the challenge. Im not going to let my regrets and remorse catch me dreaming.
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