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Rage.
That was all she felt at first. A burning sense of rage that flowed through her entire being. It clouded her mind and filled her soul. Rage at the injustice of it, that this should happen to her. To HER of all people. The fact that she couldn't remember who she was didn't seem to matter at this point. She remembered only the rage. A fury, and a passion for destruction consumed her utterly. Beyond the rage, she began to experience confusion. She did not know who she was. That wasn't usual. She also didn't know where she was. She had no sense of her surroundings, and only a vague sense of self. Though she had only a vague sense of what she was, she felt different somehow. Sort of... trapped, confined.
She didn't know how but she knew she hated it. She tried to struggle but couldn't. Not because she was restrained but because she had no means of struggling. She concentrated. Tried to deduce where, or at least what she was. Her first instinct was to try and look, but saw only darkness. she focused her attention on the inky blackness and saw nothing. But the sensation was familiar. The veil of her rage lifted as she no longer really knew why she was angry. She still knew she was, but became preoccupied with recalling this sensation of sight. She looked. She felt no sensation and saw nothing. Soon she tired of this and resolved to try something else.
Recalling feelings she dimly felt she had only recently forgotten, she tried to listen. At first, she heard nothing. Then, very quietly, in the distance, heard a sound. The sound was a periodic, and again familiar clicking noise. The noise came from her left. She tried to turn but had no power of movement. The sounds died away, but it no longer mattered, as she had remembered the sound. Footsteps. She tried to look again. Still darkness. She tried to look up, success! She saw some vague blurred shapes ahead of her. As she tried to focus on the shapes in front of her, they came together to form an image, definite, but faint rectangles of light showed on the plate in front of her. She was staring at light reflecting off a sheet of glass. The light was dim and very slowly getting darker. Night was coming.
The image stirred memories not quite forgotten, but not quite remembered either. Night. It was bad to be out at night. Why? Was she even out at all? She tried to move her arm. She felt nothing. It was as if she had no arm there at all. No muscles to move, no blood to pump, no skin to feel. But then, no! that was not quite true. She could feel some surface on her arm. And now she focused, she seemed to have some sort of form. And yet, it was not a form so much as a vessel, restricting her body, binding her soul and compressing her mind.
She needed release. Her memories seemed somehow jumbled. As if they had been freshly poured into her mind. She was remembering slowly, inch by inch. Night. What happened at night? She remembered being somehow afraid of night and yet, not much else. Yes, something else. What was it? She would never normally forget this. It was not something she COULD forget. And yet she had. She saw the night drawing in. It no longer scared her. She felt that she was somehow safe from whatever it brought with it. Or else whatever could happen had happened. Either way it was none of her concern. She tried to remember back. The last thing she remembered was the rage, and before that... something. She needed more time to remember but was becoming impatient with not knowing. She listened again. More silence.
The sun was finally setting. That sparked a memory. Sunny... What was it? Sunnydale. Of course. the place where she lived. Now she should remember who, and where she was. As the memories returned, her rage began to build. And with her newly acquired senses, she just heard the sound of the time-switch before it illuminated the scene before her. she tried to scream at the reflection in the glass in front of her. It displayed her reflection perfectly. The reflection of a small bronze cheerleading trophy. Her name was Catherine Madison, and this was her punishment.
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Rave
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biscuit07
Filmtheory (Jim)
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MebbtheScribe (MichaelB)
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Wendyness (Wendy)
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