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The girl who dreams on the back of a giant space turtle.
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
((Penelope Fitzgerald continued from Desolate Dreams))

Penelope curled her knees up to her chest and clutched them tight.

The lighting had changed in the hallways of solitary confinement. A few hours had passed. She had presumably passed out from hyperventilating and stayed asleep, only to turn the wrong way and begin suffocating on her bag.

Her knees shook as she clung tighter to them. She wished the dream she'd had was real. Nothing could make this better. She had already lost friends, and now she had lost the person that mattered to her more than anyone. Any words that anyone could say would fall on deaf ears. She just wanted to be dead. She felt completely empty, and nothing would possibly fill the void that had just opened up inside her.

The only way this could be made okay is if she did what she saw in her dream. All she had to do was get up and walk to the bridge, no need to bother with stealth. If she got killed on the way there then it would be the same ends for her. She just wanted to stop being able to think. Being able to think was what allowed her to suffer in the first place. She would would be better off never being able to think or feel anything again. All she had to do was get up.

She didn't move.
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Haunted Reality · Solitary Confinement