InsaneJournal

Who: Zed Martin and OTA
Where: Observation Lounge
When: 226407.24, evening
What: Zed's ignoring her headaches and visions by painting
Rating: TBD
Status: In progress

Zed had mostly kept to herself since she had arrived on the ship. It wasn't that she wasn't interested in meeting everyone on the ship, everything about the situation fascinated her. It was her senses that left her feeling like she was off balance. Everything that used to ground her visions had been taken away - now she was seeing bits and pieces of everything and it was leaving her more confused than ever before. She was almost scared to touch anything and was definitely afraid of touching anyone. There were so many people here from many different places and as much as she wanted to talk to all of them she wasn't sure how many universes her brain could handle. Sleep had also eluded her most nights since arriving, the little sleep she did get was full of images and feelings she couldn't make sense of.

It was like constantly being dizzy or feeling off balance, even light headed. She needed something, or someone to tether her down or she was afraid she'd get lost in one way or another. Zed hoped the resulting headaches didn't lead to a seizure, that would mean to many questions and things she'd rather not explain. What reasons could she possibly give for not wanting a brain tumour removed? Everyone seemed nice enough, but she was still wary of trusting anyone. It was easier to deflect and answer as little as possible. For now, no one needed to know she was a psychic. No one needed to know her history or that back home she was helping fight the evil known as the Rising Darkness. Or that one of her friends was an actual angel.

She hadn't had any visions of home, which meant she had no idea how Chas and John were doing. Were they okay? Had they noticed she was gone? Were they still fighting the Rising Darkness? There is a part of her that knew she should have been trying to focus her visions. Maybe if she could make sense of the fragments in her mind she could find a way of getting home. She probably should have been meditating and trying to find that focus, instead, she had taken over the table with the best view in the observation lounge and started work on a painting.

While she had dabbled in a bit of everything she normally preferred charcoal pencils. Now she was grateful she had had just bought a new set of watercolours and hadn't bothered to take them out of her bag. Normally she painted or drew her visions, or whatever she knew she could quickly sell to pay for groceries. Right now he was painting what she saw out the window. If anything was going to ground her in reality (her new reality) it would be space itself. It was beautiful. Which was why she was painting in colour, black and white just wouldn't be able to capture all of it. Another thing she was happy that had arrived with her was her phone, she may not have been able to use it to call anyone but it at least had her music. She set her playlist on shuffle and plugged her earbuds in.

Before she had started on the painting, she had flipped through her old sketch book. There were mostly images of John, but there were a few other things. Darker things, evil things she wished she could forget. Maybe she should have ripped those pages out and burned them. Normally she got an echo of the feelings she had felt when drawing them, but now she got nothing. Maybe that was why she didn't focus on her visions, the not feeling home was worse than anything else. If she didn't focus on them she could at least pretend all of it might come back.

So for now she painted. Swirling colours in the dark with flecks of white, blue and yellow for stars.