[ The whisper comes out before she can even think about it, and she stops pushing the wheelchair, leaning on the handles instead. ]
Sometimes-- [ Her voice is creaky, like it can be after sleep, after hours and hours of not speaking. ] I look at myself and I wonder if it really happened, or if it was just another nightmare, if all of this--
[ And there are tears, now, that she doesn't realize are coming. She thought she had herself under control, but she doesn't. ]
I don't even know if this is real. [ She lets go of his chair, hand wrapping around her forearm and holding it against her chest. ] Is this real?
no subject
[ The whisper comes out before she can even think about it, and she stops pushing the wheelchair, leaning on the handles instead. ]
Sometimes-- [ Her voice is creaky, like it can be after sleep, after hours and hours of not speaking. ] I look at myself and I wonder if it really happened, or if it was just another nightmare, if all of this--
[ And there are tears, now, that she doesn't realize are coming. She thought she had herself under control, but she doesn't. ]
I don't even know if this is real. [ She lets go of his chair, hand wrapping around her forearm and holding it against her chest. ] Is this real?