- Joined
- May 18, 2016
- Messages
- 74
- Reaction score
- 51
"— No!" Her body lunged forward from the bed.
The heat was stifling, choking the young woman now awake to the reality of what now was. The whum of the fan at the ceiling was a welcomed distraction, primitive and ineffective, but far better than the nightmare that had consumed yet another sleepless night. Her torso was wrapped in form-fitting tank top soaked by her sweat. The acrid odor of the room told tales of untended mold and a decade of neglect. But oh how she embraced it.
Her eyes wore the burden of fear; her pupils contracted to the pale brown in the limited early-morning light. The beating of her chest, the drums of war, had steadied to an anxious hammering at her chest. It had been three years since then, but it felt as but a week.
Heavy breathing steadied as Scia's slender frame rose from the bed and crossed the room to the air circulator, and, with a pump of her left fist, the machine churned back to life.
A glance to the chrono on the far wall read 5:03— another night with less than three hours of sleep. A moment of contemplation flashed across her eyes as Scia's gaze drifted to the ground: attempt another few hours of sleep or run from the inevitable again. It was not much of a choice, now was it? She'd have rather been anywhere else but in that bed, reliving hell. No, not a choice.
Resolve took its familiar hold as she clung to the fading memories of her training: emotion was swept aside in feeble attempt #236— she kept count—and she made her way to the refresher.
Another day, another job in the pits of Coruscant.