[It’s cowardly, Alia knows, to seek the quiet calm hidden in another person’s arms, to block out the world from the safety of that place where neck and shoulder meet. It’s where a child might hide, fearful and confused by a sudden noise, a new sight, the unfamiliarity of the world driving them back to their mother’s skirts again and again. But Alia had never been that child, born into a world she already knew and comprehended fully. Her fear had been absurd, illogical, with the memories of a thousand past Reverend Mothers implanted in her infant mind.
And yet, she had felt it. Like she feels it now, perhaps all at once, perhaps every fear she’s ever, ever had, all bubbling up at once.
The woman murmurs to her, and even in her panic, Alia feels that the words have weight, meaning. They aren’t simple platitudes. This stranger knows. So she pulls back, face tearstreaked, eyes haunted, hollow.]
No…no, it won’t. It won’t bring him back. It can’t – keep him here, where he’s happy. [Another firework bursts overhead, and she shudders, squeezing her eyes shut tight, hands seeking the woman’s arms, clinging tight.] I have to be – courageous. For him, here. Now.
no subject
And yet, she had felt it. Like she feels it now, perhaps all at once, perhaps every fear she’s ever, ever had, all bubbling up at once.
The woman murmurs to her, and even in her panic, Alia feels that the words have weight, meaning. They aren’t simple platitudes. This stranger knows. So she pulls back, face tearstreaked, eyes haunted, hollow.]
No…no, it won’t. It won’t bring him back. It can’t – keep him here, where he’s happy. [Another firework bursts overhead, and she shudders, squeezing her eyes shut tight, hands seeking the woman’s arms, clinging tight.] I have to be – courageous. For him, here. Now.