Ginger Pierce
January 19, 2017 11:42 AM
Conversations after lights out (5th year girls dorm) by Ginger Pierce
"Nox," Ginger cast, turning out the room's lights and laying back in her bed. "Good night, Lauren. Good night Jemima." She snuggled down under her blankets, hugging her stuffed whale like she did every night. Moby was nearly as old as she was and a bit threadbare, but even at fifteen the thought of not hugging him to sleep never once crossed her mind.Quiet settled around them. Ginger found herself picking out her roommates' breathing. For the first time, she realized the patterns were as familiar to her as her own heartbeat. She became aware, hyperaware even, that she did this every night. She didn't tune it out, she sought the sound, as much a comfort to her as Moby was.
For several minutes, she just listened to the quiet in and out, but she found it was not lulling her to sleep as it usually did.
"I think I'm afraid of quiet," she announced to the room at large, in a whisper in case either of the others had fallen asleep already, but she hadn't noticed the change in their breathing that indicated they had yet. That day's DADA lesson still loomed large over her, and the boggart's revelation was just starting to make sense. "If I haven't mentioned it lately, I'm really glad you two are my roommates. I think I'd go mad if I was in here by myself with nobody else breathing or rustling their blankets at night. If either of you feel inclined to snore, don't stop yourself on my account."
The last was more jest than serious, but it was an invitation to talk for a little while, to settle the nerves stirred up by the boggart. "Are either of you having trouble sleeping tonight, too?"
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Conversations after lights out (5th year girls dorm)
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Jemima Wolseithcrafte
February 05, 2017 3:35 AM
Maybe with a small nightlight on? by Jemima Wolseithcrafte
“Goodnight Ginger, goodnight Lauren,” Jemima echoed, as her room-mate turned out the lights. She wriggled her arms under the covers. It wasn’t super cold but it felt more secure to be entirely underneath the duvet, and it had been a kind of freaky day. She knew it wasn’t real but she kept seeing the range of things that Boggart had been… Her own fear played on her mind but so did several other people’s. On the whole, it hadn’t been a nice range of things to witness, and although they’d seemed easy to laugh at by the light of day, or with the distractions of other classes, now that she was lying in the dark, with nothing else to think about, it was harder to shake them off so easily.“I wondered what it was,” Jemima mused, when Ginger explained her fear of quiet. She hadn’t been able to work out during class what Ginger’s Boggart had been meant to represent. She had been a bit distracted by checking that Owen was ok, so she had wondered whether she’d just missed something, but it turned out there hadn’t been much else to notice. She hadn’t liked the feeling it had made it the room either, but nor had she been able to identify it.
“I promise to toss and turn plenty,” she assured her, nice to know she didn’t have to worry that such things were a bother. Well, at least not to Ginger. Maybe Lauren wasn’t so keen. “How about sleep-talking? Or sleep-singing?” she suggested, as more pleasant alternatives to snoring.
“A bit,” she admitted, when Ginger asked if they were having trouble sleeping. “And it’s not just mine… But, it was just a lot to take in, y’know?” she paused. “I was working up the nerve to ask Owen to do samba dancing with me at our fair booth. Like… I know he has asthma, but sometimes I feel like he’s a bit too cautious about it,” she admitted. “But now I worry that maybe it’s me just not being very compassionate or understanding. I mean, what if I do push him to do something, and he does have an asthma attack? It’d be all my fault.”
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Maybe with a small nightlight on?
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