Post by Deleted on Jan 13, 2018 19:20:12 GMT -7
i am my own
TIA ONLY MEANT TO CLOSE HER EYES FOR A SECOND. Her shift was only half of the way through when she'd slunk off to an empty break room for her lunch. 'Just resting my eyes', she'd said. But before she knew what had hit her, she was tucked in an armchair, snuffling quietly in to the crook of her arm, dead to the world.
And as she slept, she dreamt. Tia rarely remembered her dreams. They were fleeting ideas of thought. Strangers masquerading as people she hadn't seen or spoken to in years. Unfortunately, she only ever remembered her nightmares. This time her dream began much like the others.
A dinner table was set, and Tia felt herself stuck in a mismatched chair at their old family home. But strangely, in Paris. She didn't remember being this old in Paris, hadn't really been back since they'd left after her fathers accident. But, there they were, all together at a long, regal oak setting... a little like the long house tables at Hogwarts. Dreamland was an odd place. Especially as Tia looked across the room and out a porthole window, where if she squinted, she saw the tip of the Eiffel Tower, lit as if at night.
"Bon Appétit!" A voice crowed from the far end of the humongous dining table and Tia had to screw her eyes to see who stood at the end. But, all she needed to do was squint once and like magic the table was smaller and it was her mother. Her greying hair was a rich and full brown and she was smiling like she hadn't done in years. At her side, Tia's father. He pulled out her mothers seat and then his own. Tia noticed he didn't limp as he situated himself in the seat at her mother's left. She bent to look under the table. Two legs and two feet, one in particular tapping rather merrily against the stone flooring. The very same foot her father had left in some far off land when Tia was only five.
The thing about dreaming is that you rarely know you are until it's too late. "Dad... your foot?" Tia said, aghast as she lifted her head to stare her father in the eye. He would not stop smiling. "What about it, dear?" He answered, but he sounded a bit like he was underwater. Close now, but still far away.
"Yeah, Tee," A voice tittered from her right. "What about it?" Tia's head snapped around like a rubber band. Pinged by a voice Tia hadn't heard in years. Not since she was 14. Ronan Jnr. looked like their father. He had his dusty brown hair and the same dimple in his right cheek. But, RJ had their mothers green eyes and olive complexion. But, most notably, he was alive. Sitting in the seat beside Tia and grinning in that sharp, cheeky way that never failed to bother Tia when they were younger.
"Stop 'smarking'," Tia said instinctively, a jumbled word she'd coined as a tongue-tied pre-teen. She'd meant 'smirking' back then, but RJ had teased her so mercilessly for it at the time that it'd developed a meaning of its own. Everybody else smirked, RJ smarked. It was dumb, but the word alone produced an ache in Tia's chest so visceral that if she were a 'weaker' person she'd have burst in to tears.
The dream was so odd, yet so normal. Tia blinked and a full meal sat in front of everyone. Tamara appeared, a shiny locket around her neck that radiated red light. Tia turned to look at her brother again and he was in full cameo-fatigues. Tucking in to his meal like an animal, still smarking.
Tia felt so on edge, and yet at peace at the same time. She couldn't remember the last time they'd sat like this as a family. Eating as a family. Smiling as a family. Except she could, it was the Christmas before RJ had died. And Tia had ruined it by intentionally picking a fight with her brother about the Marines. She'd thrown a glass and been sent to her room. RJ left the next day and Tia had refused to say goodbye. Yeah, dreams were definitely odd.
And as she slept, she dreamt. Tia rarely remembered her dreams. They were fleeting ideas of thought. Strangers masquerading as people she hadn't seen or spoken to in years. Unfortunately, she only ever remembered her nightmares. This time her dream began much like the others.
A dinner table was set, and Tia felt herself stuck in a mismatched chair at their old family home. But strangely, in Paris. She didn't remember being this old in Paris, hadn't really been back since they'd left after her fathers accident. But, there they were, all together at a long, regal oak setting... a little like the long house tables at Hogwarts. Dreamland was an odd place. Especially as Tia looked across the room and out a porthole window, where if she squinted, she saw the tip of the Eiffel Tower, lit as if at night.
"Bon Appétit!" A voice crowed from the far end of the humongous dining table and Tia had to screw her eyes to see who stood at the end. But, all she needed to do was squint once and like magic the table was smaller and it was her mother. Her greying hair was a rich and full brown and she was smiling like she hadn't done in years. At her side, Tia's father. He pulled out her mothers seat and then his own. Tia noticed he didn't limp as he situated himself in the seat at her mother's left. She bent to look under the table. Two legs and two feet, one in particular tapping rather merrily against the stone flooring. The very same foot her father had left in some far off land when Tia was only five.
The thing about dreaming is that you rarely know you are until it's too late. "Dad... your foot?" Tia said, aghast as she lifted her head to stare her father in the eye. He would not stop smiling. "What about it, dear?" He answered, but he sounded a bit like he was underwater. Close now, but still far away.
"Yeah, Tee," A voice tittered from her right. "What about it?" Tia's head snapped around like a rubber band. Pinged by a voice Tia hadn't heard in years. Not since she was 14. Ronan Jnr. looked like their father. He had his dusty brown hair and the same dimple in his right cheek. But, RJ had their mothers green eyes and olive complexion. But, most notably, he was alive. Sitting in the seat beside Tia and grinning in that sharp, cheeky way that never failed to bother Tia when they were younger.
"Stop 'smarking'," Tia said instinctively, a jumbled word she'd coined as a tongue-tied pre-teen. She'd meant 'smirking' back then, but RJ had teased her so mercilessly for it at the time that it'd developed a meaning of its own. Everybody else smirked, RJ smarked. It was dumb, but the word alone produced an ache in Tia's chest so visceral that if she were a 'weaker' person she'd have burst in to tears.
The dream was so odd, yet so normal. Tia blinked and a full meal sat in front of everyone. Tamara appeared, a shiny locket around her neck that radiated red light. Tia turned to look at her brother again and he was in full cameo-fatigues. Tucking in to his meal like an animal, still smarking.
Tia felt so on edge, and yet at peace at the same time. She couldn't remember the last time they'd sat like this as a family. Eating as a family. Smiling as a family. Except she could, it was the Christmas before RJ had died. And Tia had ruined it by intentionally picking a fight with her brother about the Marines. She'd thrown a glass and been sent to her room. RJ left the next day and Tia had refused to say goodbye. Yeah, dreams were definitely odd.
@natalia - i hope this works! let me know if there's anything i need to change!
