Logs:Bad Dreams and Unhappiness
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| RL Date: 12 June, 2009 |
| Who: Madilla |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Vignette |
| What: It's exam time for Healer Apprentices once more. |
| Where: Healer Hall |
| When: Late Month 12 - Early Month 13, Turn 19 |
| Mentions: Delifa/Mentions, Leova/Mentions, Milani/Mentions, W'chek/Mentions |
| Exams had started to link themselves, in Madilla's mind, with bad dreams and unhappiness. A turn ago, she'd been carrying around the burden of Satiet's diagnosis; six months ago, she'd been dealing with the Weyrwoman's death. The night before her departure for the Hall, she had her first bad dreams in months, the first since Whitchek's arrival in her life had begun to make it seem possible that she'd get babies of her own, to make up for the one she'd killed. She dreamed about being a different colour than everyone else around her, and of being put on display, and laughed at, because she was not like them. She felt different: too tall, too fat, too wrong, in comparison to everyone else. In her dream, they laughed at her for her ambitions and wishes for the future, they taunted her about how she couldn't possibly be a good holder girl. About how her family no longer seemed so happy to see her. She hadn't visited her family in months. She was white-faced and exhausted, when she joined the rider assigned to transport in the bowl, and handed over her small carry-sack, packed and repacked three times, now, though she wasn't quite sure what she'd changed from one time to the next. She could feel her stomach churning as they took off, and the weyr became smaller and smaller below them until - darkness enveloped them, and bitter cold, and she counted, and then - then they were out again, above the snow-covered hall, and circling down again. She remembered Delifa's words over breakfast, that morning: Don't worry, Madilla, you'll be fine. Hold your head up, and show them what you know. You can do it; you've done it before. But it wasn't really the exams she was nervous about. She thanked the rider, and followed the other apprentices and new arrivals into the Hall, back up to the dorms they were being housed in - a different one, from the one she'd lived in, two and a half turns ago. She unpacked her clothes into the press, and sat down upon the cot, closing her eyes. What was she so worried about? She couldn't place it. At dinner, everyone wanted to hear her news; a couple of her former classmates attempted to drag her away to hear "positively everything you've been doing, Dilly. You should write more!" It was unnerving how she'd become more popular since leaving the hall than she'd ever been when she was there. Most of them still weren't posted. The few that were - well, somehow, she was more interesting. Different. Last time, after all, hadn't she been white-faced and unhappy, and there'd been a reason for it! Her pallor was sure to mean something exciting this time, too. Instead, she told them, awkwardly, about W'chek, and how they'd be getting Weyrmated when she was a Journeywoman. That caused a predictable upsurge in excitement - little Madilla and a bronzerider! - but they mostly went away unsatisfied: where was the romance? She didn't even have any good stories, couldn't even tell them about the proposal, because, as far as they could tell, there hadn't even been one. Madilla, her classmates seemed to decide (rediscover for themselves?), was a weirdo. At least the exams were a respite, and that was something she felt distinctly awkward about. She felt, for the first time, actually confident about them: she knew her stuff. Hadn't she spent hours and hours learning it, not to mention all the time in the infirmary? She knew what she was talking about. A few of her examiners for the practical subjects actually commented on her confidence, congratulating her on the improvements since her last exam. She felt awkward. Embarrassed. By day two, all she could think of was going home - back to the Reaches. To Delifa, and Leova, and Milani, and W'chek, of course (of course!). To people she cared about, who didn't seem so perplexed about her, even when sometimes they were. She felt like the ultimate broken toy, stared at and confusing, not properly designed like everyone else. By day five, she started skipping meals in the dining room, and asking for leftovers in the kitchen later, because she'd been "so busy studying" or "with a patient" or somehow, otherwise, far too busy to eat with everyone else. They, at least, didn't ask any questions. On the final night, they asked her to shoulder-tap one of the Apprentices, walk them up to the Senior Apprentice table. She refused. No one could understand why. No one ever refused. The next day, she carried home with her the news of her exceptional results, and felt her heart lighten as High Reaches came into view below them once more. Home. The ordeal was over for another half a turn. And by the time exams came around again, she'd be nearly eighteen. Two turns, then. Only two turns. |
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