Cazamir Ch. 01

On this night Rilla Wilson was having trouble sleeping. The weight of the unknown had been palpable on her semi conscious form. Crushing her from within herself while frantic dreams besieged her until she barely recognized reality. She had awoken with a start and began to immediately take stock of her surroundings. She realized she was home, safe, sort-of.... and in desperate need of coffee. Dawn was just a handful of minutes from making it's appearance and there was a lot to accomplish with her last few hours. Slowly she pulled back the covers from her bed and braced herself for the coldness of her bare feet on the tile floor. Her crimson silk nightie did little to fight off the chill, but she found it so much more bearable than the warmer cotton alternative. Besides, this being her last night she had decided to treat herself to this small extravagance. Relief swept through her as she made her way through the hall and downstairs to the kitchen. Her hand glided down the wooden railing as her eyes scanned about the lower level, everything was as she had left it. Maybe all her dreams had been for nought.

She had chosen a contemporary style of Architecture that focused on clean lines and incorporated natural as well as metallic elements, tastefully decorated with both passion and a restrained hand. The effect had been an efficient, clean generally soothing space. This space was more than a house to her, it was her home, though what would happen to this home tomorrow had yet to be answered to her satisfaction. But now was not the time to ponder on that. Her mind groused at the thought of any kind of mental workout before it had been allowed it's coffee. Her morning routine consisted of making her coffee, A rich Ethiopian blend that smelled of chocolate and earth, with cream and three sugars; then grabbing the robe she left by door for just this purpose, before moving out onto the terrace to take in the birth of each new day. This routine helped center her, it gave her some small feeling of control and allowed her to start her day with hope. Standing out here with her coffee it was easy to muse about the ridiculousness of her nightmares. It's always much easier to laugh at the night fears when the day dawns. But there was one reality she couldn't escape, she had been chosen and her options, just like the shadows, were fading as sun slowly started to creep up into the sky.

She had known this was a possibility. The same way you know you might spontaneously combust, or that the lead in your favorite lipstick might give you cancer. You could even argue that she had chosen this. That she had in fact been given a choice. Though really, who would choose Cazamir? Not her, she scoffed at herself... " yeah, and look at where that got you."

She stayed outside till she felt the Suns' rays warming her. It was one of her favorite feelings, standing there as the Sun began creeping up the tree line. Feeling the first few dappled rays ripple across her skin before eventually being drenched in the warmth of the brand new day. Would there be any Sun where she was going? Would she ever see the Sun again? Frustrated with the direction she was letting her last morning take Rilla decided to head inside and get cleaned up. She headed upstairs into her bedroom and started pulling clothes from her small walk in closet." Hmm.. what to wear". pushing through the racks of clothing she stopped a minute to admire her favorite outfit. She had never worn it. It was an knee length Charcoal grey 1940's pin up styled pencil dress and an suede electric blue pair of peep toe heels. When she bought the outfit it had cost her the equivalent of nearly two months of pay. Being that it was much more dramatic and attention grabbing than her normal style, she had never found an occasion to wear it. Instead leaving it in her closet these past six months, though looking at it had remained one of her favorite guilty pleasures. Maybe she should have thrown a party. A going away party just like you were leaving on a long vacation. That was one way people approached this. "Certain people". Rilla thought with some disgust. Some people would even welcome this, they would be excited. but those people were not Rilla Wilson.

But what was a party without the guests? And it's not like there was anyone she could invite anyway. Both of her parents had died shortly after the Conflict and she hadn't heard from her siblings in quite some time. As for colleague's, the Government had let Rilla's employer know that she was being acquisitioned for a "Special Project" for the "Good of the Nation". Needless to say she hadn't heard hide nor hair out of them since. The few friends that she thought of reaching out to she choose to leave out on purpose. She wasn't sure she could face the looks of fear and pity while they tried to comfort her. More than likely she would have just ended up comforting them anyway.Yeah, it would have been some party. " Nothing like having a funeral while you're still alive.."