31 12 / 2011
struggle
Claudia sits up in the scraggly hotel bed, her hair falling into her face, making her push it back so she can see. She can still remember fragments of the dream she just had, but it’s falling away, quickly. She can just catch some laughter of other mutants like her, enjoying themselves, no longer feared, before it’s gone. With a sigh, she gets out of bed, pulling on a sweater, before snacking on some bread while looking aout of the grimy window. She hated to be on the move—nowhere seemed like home, which is where she wanted to be. But she’ll find it, she’s sure. After brushing her teeth, she starts to gather up her clothes and put them back in her bag, ready to move on, ready to get out of this place. The last item she put away was the only thing of sentimental value she brought with her—an old leather bound copy Shakespeare’s sonnets, given to her by her great-grandmother. With one last look around her, she braced herself for the world outside, and walked out the door.
