freckleddoll | 31 tightropes walked

[Doll's half-lying on the sofa, Tiger in her lap as she absent-mindedly pets his head, talking to him - or maybe just talking to herself. But talking to yourself is easier with company.]

's the last day to write that up for them, Tiger. But what could I even say? I ain't good at writin', or at puttin' words together like that, makin' 'em make sense. At least it's a word I don't need a dictionary for this time. Or any kind of explainin'.

[Grimacing, but it smooths out into a smile down at the puppy as he licks her hand.]

I think it's crueller'n a curse anyway, tellin' us to write about pain. Like they don't know it'd make us all 'ave to remember what it means to us.

It used to get so bad, after days without food, it'd feel like your insides were tryin' to eat you. It'd be freezin' outside too, an' most times we didn't 'ave a spare rag between us to keep warm. Was too small an' too slow to get things any way else, an' if they caught us they'd beat us an' then everythin' would 'urt. Couldn't even do that much for the others, gettin' 'em somethin' to eat since most of 'em couldn't walk or carry stuff... Used to 'urt too, when they'd call us names for bein' orphans, or 'cause...they didn't like the look of us. Different kind of pain, that. Didn't 'urt as much as everythin' else though, but it was still pretty bad.

Maybe the only good thing about pain is it makes you appreciate some things more when you finally 'ave 'em. Makes you see what's really important. But it doesn't stop, not really. Every time you think it's goin' to stop then somethin' worse comes along... Or it feels like it. Nothin' could really be worse'n back then.

[Tiger whines; she'd been holding him too tightly, and now she lets go with a apologetic scratching between his ears.]

Sorry, boy. Shouldn't complain, should I? It ain't all that bad 'ere, ain't bad at all most days. If only Beast an' Joker an' the rest were around too.

Come on, let's take you out for a walk. Any of the others 'eard me maudlin' like this, they'd never stand for it.

[Getting up and knocking the communicator over as she does so, cutting off the recording.]