Effie (lacemaker) wrote in lechance, @ 2008-12-31 16:33:00 |
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Entry tags: | effie gallehawk, jonathan ibis |
Jonathan
Effie rarely slept heavily. A warm December still felt wrong to her, after Boston and Glasgow, but even without the warmth, and the restlessness left from leaving the chamomile teas the apothecary had recommended, she still slept lightly.
When the scratching started, it slipped into her dreams. As it continued, it turned them to nightmares, translating to moving furniture and nails scraping against bolted wooden doors. When it still didn't stop, she woke, suddenly, still and stiff, her eyes wide in the darkness and a chill left from the nightmares that had nothing to do with the temperature of the room.
Oh, stars, she was going mad. She had to be. First the whistle that no one had heard, and now...the scratching. On and on, on the edge of hearing, on the edge of waking, keeping her so still beyond the occasional tremble she could not stop, silent to try not to disturb Jonathan from sleep beside her.