If...
If things had been different, with mom and dad and the stepmother, things would have turned out different with Toby.
My time in the Labyrinth was made up of choices. One choice after another in quick succession, each one leading me along a neat and distinct path that would eventually find itself blocked with yet another to be made. When I was there, I wasn't really thinking about any particular choice -- I just made them and hoped for the best. That in itself was a choice, made subconsciously by my being me, and seeing that it lead me to the finish line, I assume it was the right one to make. That choice is a result of who I am, and who I am is a result of the people that most shape my life -- mom, dad and even the stepmother. In a way, they helped me make the choices I needed to make.
But in my nightmares I make the wrong choice. Either I'm not strong enough, or smart enough, or determined to save Toby. In my nightmares, I hesitate. Sometimes its the Cleaner that hits me, or the Fireys who pull me down, or the dance that distracts me too much. Then there are those where I never find the way out the mazes at all. I just keep going down the corridors and turns, each one identical to the one before it, until hunger consumes me -- or insanity, whichever comes first.
The worst ones are those where I forget the words. And I always forget them because in my selfish heart of hearts, I never wanted to remember them in the first place.
These nightmares make me feel afraid for me, and the sort of person I know I'm capable of being.
The first weeks after I first came back were the worst, and I'd wake up with my throat in my heart and my legs taut as though I'd been running, and I'd leap out of bed down the well-worn carpet path to Toby's nursery. Sometimes the nightmare feels so real that I step into his room fully expecting to see the white sheets of his empty cot, so when I see him huddled in between his blankets, my legs usually turn to jelly and I end up on the floor.
So close, I'd say to Toby, though he never really hears me. He was so close to being lost forever, and he has no idea. I never ever want to have that sort of responsibility on my shoulders ever again, because to be honest, I think had beginner's luck.
Muse: Sarah
Fandom: Labyrinth
Words: 437
My time in the Labyrinth was made up of choices. One choice after another in quick succession, each one leading me along a neat and distinct path that would eventually find itself blocked with yet another to be made. When I was there, I wasn't really thinking about any particular choice -- I just made them and hoped for the best. That in itself was a choice, made subconsciously by my being me, and seeing that it lead me to the finish line, I assume it was the right one to make. That choice is a result of who I am, and who I am is a result of the people that most shape my life -- mom, dad and even the stepmother. In a way, they helped me make the choices I needed to make.
But in my nightmares I make the wrong choice. Either I'm not strong enough, or smart enough, or determined to save Toby. In my nightmares, I hesitate. Sometimes its the Cleaner that hits me, or the Fireys who pull me down, or the dance that distracts me too much. Then there are those where I never find the way out the mazes at all. I just keep going down the corridors and turns, each one identical to the one before it, until hunger consumes me -- or insanity, whichever comes first.
The worst ones are those where I forget the words. And I always forget them because in my selfish heart of hearts, I never wanted to remember them in the first place.
These nightmares make me feel afraid for me, and the sort of person I know I'm capable of being.
The first weeks after I first came back were the worst, and I'd wake up with my throat in my heart and my legs taut as though I'd been running, and I'd leap out of bed down the well-worn carpet path to Toby's nursery. Sometimes the nightmare feels so real that I step into his room fully expecting to see the white sheets of his empty cot, so when I see him huddled in between his blankets, my legs usually turn to jelly and I end up on the floor.
So close, I'd say to Toby, though he never really hears me. He was so close to being lost forever, and he has no idea. I never ever want to have that sort of responsibility on my shoulders ever again, because to be honest, I think had beginner's luck.
Muse: Sarah
Fandom: Labyrinth
Words: 437