Post by Riley Chayka on Apr 2, 2013 21:10:00 GMT -5
And all the things you never heard
While in my mind I search for words
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Eeeeeeerrrrt eeeeeeerrrrt eeeeeeerrrrt eeeeeeerrrrt. Riley's eyes had just barely closed when the noise started. They snapped open faster than the speed of light. A small whimper left her lips and she sucked in a shaking breath. “No. No.” She lips mouthed, though no sound came out. “No....” Riley forced her small frame to sit up. Her naturally blonde hair was almost brown with all the grim stuck in it. Her pale skin looked transparent, and her eyes were circled with black and red. She looked near death. And she felt it too. Weak. Tired. Maybe if she could get a few hours sleep. She couldn't remember the last time she slept. Couldn't remember the last time she had seen outside. Seen more than just the shadow of the sun on the floor. Seen a person who wasn't her interrogator. She wasn't even sure the world was still out there. Tears started to run down her face. While she normally would have quickly wiped them away she didn't move. Act like she didn't even notice. The tears didn't last long. Probably couldn't. She tired to remember if she had been given food and water today, but she couldn't remember. It didn't matter either way, when they did feed her it was very little. She had adjusted though. She didn't move much any more, and thus didn't need many calories to keep her going. Her body had gone into shock weeks ago. Even still, the thought of water suddenly made her all too aware of her dry throat. Her tongue slowly slipped out of her mouth and made contact with a tear that had logged itself on her cracked lips. It tasted salty. She didn't like it. In fear of tasting another she whipped her hand across her face. All she wanted was to sleep. To have some peace. But the noise continued. It seemed to be getting louder but Riley knew it was just her kind. Her first 16 days in this place she had enjoyed the sound 24/7, It had never ended. And though it was the most enjoyable form of torture she had experienced over the last 89 days she was not happy to hear it. It had been days since her last torture session, and even long since she had last heard the noise. She had thought it was over when the little girl had died. The Russians needed to figure out what they were going to do. She had been wrong though. Eeeeerrrttt. Riley let out a shaky breath. She didn't know what to do. All she wanted was to go home. To sleep. To be safe. Pushing herself to her feet she slowly began to pace the room.
The taste of salt brought Riley back to reality. Stunned she quickly began to wipe her eyes dry. And for a moment she forgot where she was. It only took one honk of another cars horn, however, to remind her, and she quickly pulled her car back into her lane. Forcing herself to focus on the road she drove the rest of the short drive completely aware of her surroundings. The human mind was an amazing thing, that was sure. Not only had Riley not driven a car in over three months, she had driven accident free for over twenty miles without even remembering it. Riley suspected the same function that had kept her alive for 96 days in hell was responsible. As the car entered the neighborhood, Riley's eyes scanned the houses. Each one looked the same as it always had. Nothing was different. The world had, in fact, gone on as if nothing was different. It was hard to believe how much was the same. How her being gone hadn't effected anything. Coming up to her house she slowed the car to a stop. It wasn't a large house, but it was her's. She had bought it three years ago. She needed some place for herself. The CIA encouraged people to make connection; seem normal. Riley knew all her neighbors quite well. She wondered if any of them had missed her. Wondered if anything was up. Probably not. They were used to her being gone. As far as they knew she was a travel journalist with the Washington Post, a job which meant she was gone quite often. Riley glanced at the dark windows of the houses around and was sudden glade that it was almost midnight. She wasn't sure if she was ready to face any of them yet. Turning off her car she stepped out into the cool air. Her home looked almost exactly the same as it had before she had left for Russia. The lawn was well kept and there appeared to be some green patches starting to grow in. Along the front of the house someone had even planted some flowers. It was all so surreal.
Riley took in a breath and moved to the door. It was hard to believe that she was finally home. After all those days. Sitting there dream of this moment. Missing every little bit of her home, down to the leaky tap in the kitchen. Could this really be real? Could she have really escaped. Was she really free? It had been two weeks since she had been freed, and yet it still hadn't sunken in. Maybe because she had been isolated from the rest of the world. Her debrief and barely been better than her capture. She had taken to an isolated home in the woods. Had been treated for her wounds. And then questioned. Asked about every moment over the last 96 days. Riley had easily answered their questions, but somehow she couldn't shake just how much those questions mirrored her interrogations. It hadn't taken long for the Agency to confirm that she hadn't given anything away. Riley had, after all, spent that time in complete silence. Never saying a word to them. Never giving her name. Never saying who she worked for. Nothing and been compromised, who had witnessed her silence many times. That fact was confirmed by Janet and Michael Fischer, the couple who had been taken hostage with her. Their stories still didn't make sense to the spy. She had simply thought they were a vacationing family, nothing more. But why would the FSB keep them all that time? Who were they really? Riley knew she probably would never know. Even if the agency figured it out they wouldn't tell her. Not after everything. One thing she was sure of, though, was they had suffered enough, no matter who they were. They had lost a child. And Riley couldn't help but feel guilty. She knew she did the right thing. By not talking she had saved hundreds of lives. But had what cost? Samantha had only been thirteen, she didn't deserve that fate. Didn't deserve to be killed. Her death, of course, had been what got Riley out of there. The Russians had made a huge mistake when they killed her. The Fischers had no doubt been paid a large sum of money to keep quiet and not press the issue. And in good old CIA bureaucracy they would probably not press the issue in return for something else. And of course since Riley never gave them her name she never existed. They would deny it, and the CIA would deny it to keep her name secret.
Unlocking the door, Riley stepped into her home. Her hand moved naturally to the light switch, as her other hand dropped her keys onto the table next to the door, not even hesitating to think it had been moved. The lights came on, and for an instant she was blinded. Things soon came into focus and she was faced with the exact scene she had seen a hundred times before. Nothing had moved, though someone had clearly kept cleaning the place. It was so quiet. Riley sucked in a deep breath and moved through the living room to the back bedroom. It wasn't a big house only having two bed rooms and one bath, but it was big enough. It felt too big now... Worried, Riley began to move through each room check for people, bombs, and whatever else may be hiding in the shadows. Finding none she moved to her bed room. The bed looked so big. So Comfortable. She didn't move to it though. Just stood there. Looking at it. As if she had forgotten what to do with it. Even during her two weeks of debrief she hadn't been able to sleep. Something had been stopping her. Fear. Fear that this was all a dream and that if she went to slept she would wake up. But what was stopping her now? Her eyes had been so heavy before she had barely been able to hold them open. All sense that she had been tired were gone now, though. She was more alert than ever. Again she couldn't help but notice how quiet it was. Turning she almost ran out of room. Trying to control her breathing she moved to her TV. The remote sat squarely on the coffee table, and she scooped it up and pressed on. Sssssssssshhhhhhhh, The sound of static erupted into the room. Startled Riley dropped the remote. Quickly she fell to her knees and fumbled for the remote. It took only seconds but by the time she was able to click the TV off she was physically shaking. It seemed that her cable bill had been one thing the CIA had forgotten to take care off.
Riley remained on the floor for several minutes. The silence crept around her. Her eyes scanned ever inch of her home. Nothing was different, yet the place seemed to foreign to her. Like this was the first time she had ever been here. It was too quiet. She couldn't take it. She rose to her feet and quickly exited. She had no idea where she was going. She just needed to leave. It wasn't safe there. She couldn't explain why, but it was. She didn't even pay attention to the fact that her hair was in a mess and her clothes were baggy and wrinkled. Not to mention she still looked like hell. There were circles around her eyes and her skin was paper white. Luckily her old black sweat shirt covered her arms, but if one where to look at them they would be covered in scars and even some stubborn bruises. She had only been driving a few minutes when she spotted a bar, people walked in and out of the place as it is were six not past midnight. Stopping the car she sat there for a second. People. Real people. She almost couldn't believe it. Getting out she made her way to the entrance. Once inside she was consumed by a sea of people. It felt good, yet off. She had been in solitary for so long. Taking a deep breath she moved to the counter and took an empty seat. It didn't take long before the bartender made his way to her. Riley almost ordered a soda, but stopped herself. Instead she ordered a beer, some alcohol might be good. Maybe it would even knock her out. Once she received her drink she began to sip on it and closed her eyes. She just sat there listening. The chatter of people was calming. Only moments later, though, a crash erupted through the bar. It probably wasn't all that loud but to Riley it was. Jumping to her feet she forgot that she was holding a drink and spilled it all over the counter. Quickly realized that the sound had been nothing she tired to hide her reaction by messily mopping up the liquid, but she had spent enough time in her business to know that someone had noticed.
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But time was lost, the curtain fell
I take my bows and wish you well
But time was lost, the curtain fell
I take my bows and wish you well
KICKING IT WITH !?[/b] OPEM
POST STATUS !?N/color][/b] Finished
WORDS !?[/b] 1914
CREDIT !?[/b] HOTCH!
MUSIC !?[/b] Song to represent the thread
NOTES !?[/b] Ya... so this is more of just a long ramble.... Hope it doesn't scare anyone off... [/font][/size]