Sultry [a narrative]

The heat was getting to her. It was sticky and clinging, oppressive and smothering, especially in the bar, where the heat from sweaty bodies mingled with the stifling torridity. Beads of sweat trailed down her torso in rivers, and her perspiration-soaked clothes stuck to her like a second skin. Rising slowly, she ambled out the door into the night, the open air a few degrees cooler, and continued out across the yard of the bar, the hint of a breeze caressing her damp form.

She knew exactly where she was going, even if the sultry heat was sapping her energy, and her steps fell almost instinctively, without her paying one bit of attention to her path. She'd travelled this exact course with a disturbing regularity, because lately, she'd felt compelled to be alone much more than usual - there was an inexplicable barrier between herself and other people, and she frequently found herself bouncing back and forth between detesting human company and longing with all her heart for it. Normally, she preferred to be surrounded by her friends, and this new development left her disquieted.

With practiced effort, she clambered up onto the sewage drainpipe, immediately pulling her legs up against her chest and hugging them as she rested her head on her knees. From up there, she had a good view of the valley of wasteland stretching out to eternity before her, and what little breeze there was offset the stench of the raw, green sewage spewing up from the ulcid sphyncter of the abused planet. Nobody came over here willingly. Or, at least, not unless there was a damn good reason to. Warning signs were nailed, tacked, and plastered across every available surface in the surrounding area, accompanied by a cement barrier, all of which discouraged public loitering. She figured the possible ill-health effects were negated by her desire for solitude, so this was where she came to think.

Putting her finger on exactly what was wrong was impossible. It wasn't as though whatever was eating at her was a lone and easily defeated entity. It was nameless, thusfar, though she had a pretty good idea of most of the factors involved. There was, of course, the lieutenant, and everything x0x0 had discussed with her that morning with regard to him. And then, there was the sense of utter isolation from the rest of the population of Blackburne, though it wasn't as though she was actually isolated from anyone, figuratively or literally. The light-devouring orb of abject misery pulsing deep within her was dragging her further and further down into the depths of despair.

There, that was what it was. She was in despair. Only, she didn't know or understand why. She had no good reason to surrender herself to such intense melancholy. She was alive, she had shelter, food, medicine, friends who cared about her... So why this absolute despondency?

On some level, she felt like an outcast. It wasn't as though she didn't get along with everyone, and it wasn't as though anyone was pushing her out into the fringes. It was something in her, tugging her, separating her, isolating her completely. There were times when she felt as though she was standing outside a glass house with her nose pressed against the window, watching everyone inside, even those she was closest to. On the other hand, there were also moments where she was inside the glass house, beating her fists against a locked door in a futile attempt to get outside. She was either one or the other, and malcontent had settled in, making her antsy and impatient in either situation.

And then, there was the lieutenant. She couldn't rightly make heads or tails of him. And that drove her absolutely insane, not being able to understand him. Perhaps that was why she was so fascinated by him - he was a complete enigma to her. He was entirely unpredictable to her, and she had a sinking feeling that she was doing everything horribly wrong all across the board. She strongly suspected that he was already lost to her. Possibly even to himself. He was the enemy, technically, and never in her strangest dreams did she imagine she'd be connoitering with such a person right on the boundary between "us" and "them." But she couldn't get him out of her head, and it made her want to scream until she was mute out of utter frustration.

Another part of her feared him. A lot. Not just because of what his uniform, his choice of career, represented, but of what he, himself, represented to her. She had vowed never to let herself have those kinds of feelings for anyone ever again. And here she was, tied up in knots over him, and had been for weeks. Oh yes, he terrified her entirely.

Feelings of foreboding were also clawing at her. She had some subconscious sense of something sinister on the horizon, slinking slowly closer and spelling disaster for Blackburne. There was no rhyme or reason for it, it was just there. And talking to x0x0 about it earlier in the day hadn't helped her - it had only compounded her anxiety, knowing that someone else felt it, as well. but the only thing she could do was wait and pray, because there was nothing to be done to prevent whatever catastrophe loomed ahead.

Her head hurt. It had been aching a lot in recent days. Tying that pain in with her now-frequent nausea, she felt like a walking plague. But she wasn't sick. She had no other symptoms, and so, she assumed she was just deprived of some vitamin or another. But it was annoying enough to help shove her a little further down into the tar pit of her depression.

Releasing her embrace on her legs, she eased herself back carefully, bringing her arms up behind her head for cushioning. Staring up at the heavy night sky, she sighed, letting all of those thoughts swim through the chaos of her consciousness, too sapped of energy to attempt sorting them out again. Her only hope was that with time, all things would become clear.

The night sky stirred, breathing out a soft breeze to kiss her goodnight, almost as if assuring her that everything would be alright, as she closed her eyes and let sleep seduce her into blissful unconsciousness.