Surely Somday: Prologue One - Maggie Quinn
Oct. 2nd, 2011 02:23 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
walkwithheroesAuthor: Nichole
Challenge: Angel Food: 1. deity/divinity
Extra: none
Topping: butterscotch
Rating: PG
Word Count: 324
Story Title: Maggie Quinn
Story: Surely Someday
Summary: The woman who would become Maggie Quinn awakens in her new 'home'
Author's Note: This is a new series that I've started working on. All information can be found in the link above. I'm going for something a bit more supernatural, though there will be human drama and a little romance and comedy, too.
Scotland, 1705
When she first awakes in her home – oh, so many years ago – a strange panic rises inside her. She has no memories of how she got there; of who she is. This, this place, is her first memory. Scared and alone, she pounds on the stone walls, her skin slowly bruising and cutting.
She’s screaming – begging – for someone to save her. “Help! Please!” She begins to sob. “Please don’t do this. Please!” She screams and screams until her throat is raw and there are no more words inside her.
She feels a strange and new feeling rising up in her throat. She opens her mouth, but the only thing that comes from her throat is a rattling sob. Her hands are bleeding, and she’s not sure how to stop it; the sticky blood makes stains on her white dress.
Under her bare feet, the stone floor is cold; it causes a chill to rise up her spine. Her eyes are slowly adjusting to the darkness, but she still can’t see very much. She wonders how big the place is.
It’s a tiny place. If she spreads both her arms out, as far as they go, the tips of her fingers touch the stone walls. If she lies down, there are three inches between the stone walls and her head; three inches between the stone walls and her bare feet. When she stands, she is five inches from the stone roof. The floor is stone, cool and damp – not at all inviting; it makes her uncomfortable. There is nothing else in her tiny prison; nothing in her coffin-like home. No windows or doors to let her see out; no light. There is nothing; nothing but her and the thoughts inside her head. And, even those begin to wander off and abandon her after a time.
Her thoughts leave, but she stays in her tomb. She stays for much longer than she thought possible.
Challenge: Angel Food: 1. deity/divinity
Extra: none
Topping: butterscotch
Rating: PG
Word Count: 324
Story Title: Maggie Quinn
Story: Surely Someday
Summary: The woman who would become Maggie Quinn awakens in her new 'home'
Author's Note: This is a new series that I've started working on. All information can be found in the link above. I'm going for something a bit more supernatural, though there will be human drama and a little romance and comedy, too.
Scotland, 1705
When she first awakes in her home – oh, so many years ago – a strange panic rises inside her. She has no memories of how she got there; of who she is. This, this place, is her first memory. Scared and alone, she pounds on the stone walls, her skin slowly bruising and cutting.
She’s screaming – begging – for someone to save her. “Help! Please!” She begins to sob. “Please don’t do this. Please!” She screams and screams until her throat is raw and there are no more words inside her.
She feels a strange and new feeling rising up in her throat. She opens her mouth, but the only thing that comes from her throat is a rattling sob. Her hands are bleeding, and she’s not sure how to stop it; the sticky blood makes stains on her white dress.
Under her bare feet, the stone floor is cold; it causes a chill to rise up her spine. Her eyes are slowly adjusting to the darkness, but she still can’t see very much. She wonders how big the place is.
It’s a tiny place. If she spreads both her arms out, as far as they go, the tips of her fingers touch the stone walls. If she lies down, there are three inches between the stone walls and her head; three inches between the stone walls and her bare feet. When she stands, she is five inches from the stone roof. The floor is stone, cool and damp – not at all inviting; it makes her uncomfortable. There is nothing else in her tiny prison; nothing in her coffin-like home. No windows or doors to let her see out; no light. There is nothing; nothing but her and the thoughts inside her head. And, even those begin to wander off and abandon her after a time.
Her thoughts leave, but she stays in her tomb. She stays for much longer than she thought possible.
