Sargent Kat didn’t realize that she had fallen asleep on the ancient red couch until she awoke, the curtain-less windows revealing an ink-black, starless night sky. Kat shivered, her breath turning to mist at contact with the air. Couldn’t Major Sanders turn on the heaters in this place?
Ah, well. Nothing she could do about that. Kat opened up a creaky drawer that was carved in all its lonesome into the old tan coffee table. Located there was a foul-smelling canteen of water strung with dusty cobwebs and a folded, moth-eaten patchwork blanket.
Taking up the blanket in shivering arms, Kat wrapped it about her shoulders like a shawl and stumbled towards the half-empty bookshelf, upon which stood a little blue alarm clock. Its face was so covered with grime that it was impossible to make out the numbers or even the arms. Sighing, she picked it up and rubbed its surface with the rough, already-dirty blanket that sat upon her shoulders. Squinting with sleep-blurred eyes, she was able to make out the time: 7:15.
Kat blinked. Once. Twice. She realized that it couldn’t possibly be a quarter after seven. Kat rubbed her eyes and blinked once more. The little blue clock read: 3:35.
That made more sense. Yawning and stretching her hands towards the wallpapered ceiling, she pondered her dilemma. On one hand, she could go up to the bunk-room and sleep the rest of the night there. On the other hand, she could continue to sleep on the rickety old couch. Finally, she could finish her uneaten dinner.
Kat’s stomach rumbled loudly at the last option, and she obliged. Although it was very cold, it was still something, and was quite delicious at that. Her stomach gave a mumble of satisfied appreciation in thanks as Kat curled up on the couch, still wrapped in a blanket, to finish her night’s rest....
As she began to doze off, a thought interrupted her. Where was the nighttime guard? Exhausted, Kat stuggled to stay awake--to investigate her fellow guards’ disappearance, but her body fought against her. Her eyelids, heavy as lead, dropped until Kat was submerged in complete darkness.
In a second, she was asleep. But in the single moment before that, she recalled having previously having the strangest dream. She had been sleeping on the very couch in the very room, barely awake and still in a haze.
Kat remembered a warm breath playing on her ear and a voice, a light, playful, mischievous whisper, resounding inside of her skull, Sweet dream, hun. Ha ha ha ha. And that was all.
In the present, Kat rolled over, beginning to snore softly. The dream was forgotten, not to ever be remembered again.
-KittyLover8
© 2013
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