Her sulking form slowly lurched towards her bed. It was night time on Rigari; the soft chirps of the alien insects nestled within her green tides of grass and birch filling the otherwise quiet night. There was no civilization here. No one else. She was alone; safe from the dangers of the otherworlds. In this, there was a small comfort. When she set her head down here tonight, amidst her gathered clothes, half eaten cans of soup, discarded undergarments and other unmentionables... She would be safe from them all. They could not get her here. Her fingers slowly trailed along her muscular body; her fingernails tickling her soft, yet bruised skin as they traveled along her sides, and reached for the edge of her shirt. Her fingers looped underneath the folds, and she pulled it upwards; carefully carrying the article of clothing over her hair, and promptly dropping it off beside her bed. Her belt buckle was unbuckled, her pants unbuttoned, and they fell away without another thought. Her chest hurt. She'd grimace as she peers down, and inspects the wound. A heavy darkness tainted the skin there; black and blue like the night, and painful like a million bee stings. Another reminder of how precious life was. How close she'd come, yet again. She grimaces, and turns her attention back to the tiresome push to bed. No brushing tonight, no shower; she didn't have the energy. She slowly drops onto the bed; her messy, sticky hair stuck to her forehead, and her warm body shivering in the cold, Rigari night. Sleep. Sleep. She only had to sleep. She forces her eyes closed. Sleep... "...So, if we did..." She'd shift uncomfortably. "...What would you want to name her? Tessa sounds like a good name, doesn't it?" Stop. "Lieutenant, your flight is set for 0800 tomorrow. Russian armor unit was spotted m-..." Please. "Deploy countermeasures McKinley, God Damn it." "You've got a MIG on yer' tail, McKinley! Break R-.." "Dear God in Heaven, what are those thi-..." "-..ore fuel, we're putting everyone on foot. Evacuations are underway, but we're losing gr-..." "Sarah, I don't know where they are, b-..." "Sarah, we got pirates inco-..!" "-re losing her, she's bleedin' out of her fuckin' m-..." "-ey took Jaycee and Kahlu-..." She shudders. "-lly genocide, Sara-..." "We're going to lose everything." "FLORANS!" God Please. No more. "Look at me baby. It's going to be okay. " Her eyes snap open; her breathing sharp and heavy. It felt like someone had stuffed a rag down her throat. Her body was soaking wet; droplets of sweat rolling down her forehead, her limbs and body, and drenching her undergarments. She felt gross. Ashamed... And nauseous. She swallows; hoping to stem the tide of whatever she felt rising in her throat, and she held back what would have been the previous day's dinner from exploding from her lips. She peers over at the alarm clock beside the bed. Two hours had passed. Enough for tonight. She didn't want to go back to bed. Couldn't. She leaves her bed behind in a rush. Stumbling, shaking, her heart racing as she strips herself down and yanks the shower knob on in a race against... What? Time? No. Herself, probably. She just wanted to pretend that she could ignore this stuff again. Push it to the back of her mind. She needed this feeling to stop. The warm water pours down upon her bare, trembling body. Each droplet washes away the sweat that collected in her hair and on her skin; the smudged makeup she never washed off the night before. The tears that had silently streaked down her face during her slumber. The fear. The anguish. The memories. Gone, at least for the time being. Like a hollow tree, she slowly drops to the floor of the shower; curling up into a protective ball. She was safe. She was fine. She would be ready for whatever tomorrow threw at her. A little makeup on her face and some coffee to hide what she couldn't. Just another day on the job.
