The Apsaras Series 1:



                                                                                                                                                                                                                                 By:  Stacy L.   



CATEGORY:  Angst, Drama, POV, Vingette

TABLE FIC PROMPT:  #085. Indifference


COMPLETED:  November 1, 2006


AUTHOR’S NOTES:  This story takes place in the backdrop of the “Mada’s Cursed” series and is the first installment of a new series titled “The Apsaras Series”.  It also serves as a response to a table fic prompt from the 50_darkfics LiveJournal challenge community.


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Daniel’s POV


Sometimes I wish I would die. I dream about it, long for it, desire it and wait patiently for its arrival. I try to fight, to resist the temptation to surrender all, to just give up and usually I succeed, usually. Some days however the realization of my present situation threatens to undermine me. I spend hours wallowing away in the dark, hoping for the tiniest bit of light to appear, praying for the pain to end. I've been in such a constant state of anguish that it feels normal to me and honestly that scares me: when pain is so common that it feels normal...

Sometimes I think of those I knew before my imprisonment. They visit me speaking to me, whispering to me, stirring up images of a life I once knew and making me wonder if I ever lived at all. Are my memories real or just a figment of my overtired, overtaxed mind? I'll see scenes in my head like a movie flickering by, fading more and more each day. Once upon a time I could put a name quickly with a face. Now? Now, I just put feelings with faces because the names are just too hard for me to recall.

Sometimes I think of those nameless people alive in my memories and wonder how they're doing. Then, then I shake my head and wonder how life can continue for everyone but me, for here I am and here I will remain staring into unending darkness, unable to even rise above the floor due to the heavy chains that imprison me. I'm surrounded by the sounds of a thousand screams that cut like a knife, hacking away at my sanity, tearing me apart piece by bloody piece. Here I remain waiting for the moment when my cell door creaks open and knowing that again I'll be forced to endure unimaginable pain. Again I'll find myself praying for death, wondering why I yet live when my body is broken and wondering how much pain a body can endure before the strain on it becomes far too much for it to bear...







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