Marie's Nightmares - prolog
will contain nightmares dealing with violence, sexuality, and predjudice, there may be some bad words.
Main Character: Marie.
disclaimer: not mine. Nobody from Marvel is mine.
distribution: please ask first.
Marie stood in the hallway, talking to Bobby about the history report that Ms. Munroe had assigned them. She wanted twenty pages on the Roman empire, and one specific way that it had influenced modern society. The assignment had been given two weeks ago, and was due at the end of this week, and had been the source of a great many grumblings from the students.
"I don't know why she gave us that assignment. I mean, twenty pages? Doesn't she realize how much work the other teachers have given us? When are we supposed to be able to sleep with all this work?" Bobby was exaggerating things a bit, trying to make Marie smile.
She stifled a giggle. "Ah don't know, but you sure seem to have found some play time somewhere. Maybe we aren't supposed to sleep. Think they're trying to help us find that mutants really can get by on one or two hours?"
Bobby smiled, and made an exaggeratedly surprised expression. "You know, I think you may be on to something there. Anyhow, good night Marie. Pleasant dreams."
She watched him walk down the hall with a small smile before entering her room, closing the door and leaning against it, her smile gone, fear in her eyes. "ah hope I don't dream tonight. Maybe them pills Dr. Grey gave me will work... ah'm afraid to dream anymore."
She changed into her nightgown, a long flowing lavender gown with full sleeves, and eyed her bed as if she feared it would become some awful beast and attack her. In an effort to delay sleep, she worked on math homework, writing figures until her head swam and her eyes itched. Conceding defeat, she slowly trudged to the bed, sliding her body under the thick grey and blue comforter.
"Now I lay me down to sleep, ah pray the Lord my soul to keep. Watch over me in my sleep, please don't let me dream. Amen." The unorthodox prayer was whispered into the air, a desperate plea into the darkness.
Eventually, her shifting and twisting slowed, then faded, and the room was quiet except for the sound of her slow, even breathing.