allison young has trust issues with her toaster (dyingtohearit) wrote in safezonethreads, @ 2010-02-04 15:19:00 |
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Alison was never one to like a lot of time on her hands to think about things. Especially now that she was trying to come to terms with the fact she was technically dead and had lost any chance to know her Mom and while getting drunk and screwing Dean Winchester was fun for a night it wasn't exactly the kind of thing that could be repeated (okay so she probably wouldn't hate it if it repeated but from her experience repeating things like that had the potential for someone to get attached and things to end badly) and she'd gotten sick of watching the movies she could get her hands on. She'd picked up as many extra shifts as she could but it still left her with far too many hours to fill. The sheer amount of time was still the hardest thing for her to come to terms with. Just hours of empty time and it seemed some even craved more. She hated it. She hated sitting still and the quiet of it. She hated the way it gave her the chance to think too much about the things she didn't want to. The worst of her memories, the empty gnawing feeling that she'd had since coming to the pas and losing Derek and Kyle. And while there were people here she liked and got along with, some who even had lives a little bit close to hers it wasn't the same. It could never be the same. She would always feel distanced, always feel a bit like a freak. She'd started going to the library to take her mind off it. Pulled books at random from the shelves and devoured the ones she could read, struggled with the ones a little bit above her ability (she knew enough to get by but the world had gone to hell long before she'd been in school and as a result she read at a level far below where she should be for her age) and set aside the ones she was bound and determined to figure out. Subject didn't matter. Fiction or non. Just anything to occupy her mind for a while. She had the headphones in for the ipod she'd been given before ending up in the safe zone. Music she'd quickly learned after the girl thrust it in her hands with a grin was an awesome thought drowner. And definitely helped with the fact the past was far too quiet for her liking. She scrolled to a new playlist when the one she'd been listening to ended and then reached for the next book in her pile and leaned back in her chair. Alison had always heard of the wars before the one against the machines. Terrible things were people fought other people, and she'd always thought it so stupid and such a waste. But the details were loose at best, and as she started to flip through the history book she'd picked up she suddenly felt sick to her stomach. The pages of concentration camp victims stared up at her, shells of people that reminded her all too much of the day they'd taken Century Work Camp. Starved, beaten, but the fact that it had been other people doing it. She swallowed hard against the bile that rose in the back of her throat and set the book down on the table, sitting up. She wanted to look away, wanted to burn the book and forget but she couldn't stop from reading the words, learning the twisted history. They were no better than the damn machines. Hell they were worse. At least the machines didn't have a sense of reason, a sense of the value of life. They did. They knew what life was, what it meant. And still they did this. But flipping the page to stare down at a rudimentary version of the Skynet prisoner tattoo that marred her own arm from being taken and tortured for information with Derek that she knew some human gave to another was the last straw. She snapped the book shut and half debated chucking it across the room (and probably would if it weren't for the few people in the room). She wasn't much of a crier, hell she could count on one hand how many times it had happened, but she had to blink hard to keep from doing it then. And for the first time she thought maybe they deserved what they were getting. Maybe coming back to stop Judgment Day only to see a zombie apocalypse was a sign, maybe they weren't worth saving. She folded her arms on the table and let her head fall into them, discreetly wiping at her eyes as she did. She felt sick, awful and just so lost, and really regretted her lets read books idea to keep from thinking too much. |