Helena G. Wells (changedtherules) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2014-09-30 13:59:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, h g wells |
Who: Helena Wells (Narrative)
What: Dream Things
When: Late September, Early Morning
Where: Her House
Rating/Warnings: Low. Brief mention of losing a child.
Status: Complete!
Helena had always been keen on adventure, ever since she was a little girl. She loved to explore the worlds hidden away in the pages of her books, whether they were real or imagined. It hardly mattered if the places she read about existed outside of her parents’ library because, in her mind, they were all very real.
When she grew old enough to notice the difference between fiction and reality, she'd found the real would wasn't at all what she expected it to be. It wasn't as exciting or as freeing as she'd hoped. And the people. The people were always in such a rush to get through life, as if they would miss it if they slowed down. More of them might stand still if they could see what they were missing as they ran past.
It had been a disappointment to say the least. But she’d gotten over it. She’d decided she would have to see the world for all of them. She’d have to make it count.
She spent much of the next several years pleading with her parents to take her on one adventure after another. This went splendidly until she graduated and they insisted she make her own way in the world.
Now, she traveled less often, work taking more of her time than she’d hoped when she started on this path. But she hadn’t lost her love of it, the thrill of making new discoveries.
When the dreams had started, it had felt like a natural continuation of that. She might not have been going anywhere physically, but new worlds had opened up to her. She was surrounded by endless wonder.
But she’d also dreamed of Christina, sweet Christina. A daughter she’d never even had, yet felt the loss of keenly. And she’d remembered her bronzing, remembered what it had felt like when she’d finally been released. She remembered the anger.
This was not the world she had hoped for, not in that reality or this one. It was not the world she had dreamt of finding. She wanted to see it burn.
Then this morning when she’d woke, she had found a locket on her nightstand, a faded picture of her counterpart’s daughter inside, as she knew it would be before she’d ever looked at it. And a ring, the significance of which she was still uncertain. Perhaps she would rather not know. If the thoughts racing through her mind as she slept were any indication, nothing good would come of it.
The woman she dreamt of being had been angry for so long. It was a living thing inside of her. And she had plans. Terrible plans that Helena couldn’t see the full scope of yet. And as much as she couldn’t imagine that sort of anger, the hatred she felt, she thought she was beginning to understand it. She’d thought the world would be a better place. And hadn’t she thought that as well when she was a child?
She’d gotten it all wrong. It wasn’t the dreams she was afraid of. It never had been. She wasn’t afraid of what they would turn her into. She was afraid of what she might already be.