La Vie Boheme

10,006 words! I have never,

10,006 words! I have never, ever written a single story this long. Even Harvest was made up of several different stories. Tonight another thread in the plot came to me, complete with a new character. Well, sort of new. We've seen her mentioned before...

Now the Host came to her almost every night. In a way, she looked forward to their visits, and even looked forward to the nights they took her away from her room in the Retreat. When she came back screaming, at least she felt something. On those nights, the pain and fear and humiliation cut through the thick haze of Thorazine and Haldol that kept her soul dead during the daylight hours. Even while she was shrieking and fighting the orderlies, something in her was alive, and for those few moments she was herself again.

In the moments before the sedatives took effect, Sara Osborne dreamed of escape. Maybe one night the Host would neglect to return her to her narrow hospital bed. Maybe one night one of the night nurses would find her bed empty during a room check while she was gone. Maybe one night her stories would be proven true and she could go free. Sara realized she could never go home, but maybe, just maybe, if she were given the chance, she could find her own way in the world, find her own home.

I suppose it's worth mentioning that when writing about Sara Osborne, I had "Burn" by The Cure on repeat endlessly...