Interstellar Hereafter 3 Sneak Peek
Interstellar Hereafter Book 3 Sneak Peek (Alyssa's story!!!). Well, part of the sneak peek. A peek of a sneak peek? IDK, but the rest will be in the Bonus Chapter at the end of Ensnaring Avery. In Pradan's words: my vow 😀
"So, I guess it’s my turn to give this thing a chance.
(Archivist note: the following paragraphs have been severely crossed out; reader discretion is advised.) Medical professionals used many labels to name what I’m going through. PTSD, anxiety disorder, depression. I call it being stuck. Not in the past, surprisingly. I was never one to dwell upon my hardest moments.
Truth be told, I can barely remember distant events and the more recent ones fade away with each passing day. How can you face your demons when the traumas are nothing but hazy memories and all is left to deal with are the broken pieces of your former self?
I feel stuck in the present for I can see no future, not for myself. Whenever I try to picture it, I fail and encounter only white noise.
Perhaps I have no future. Perhaps there’s only this present for me, with the irrational fears and constant anxiety. They are the worst at night. I try to calm them with my good-night ritual: check the lights -- leave one on in each room, check the door—lock it three times in succession, check the entire house again. And still, I can barely fall asleep (Archivist note: the rest of the sentence too faded to recover.)
No, this isn’t right. I’ll give it one more try before I deem it a botched attempt. I don’t even know why I’m trying. I guess everyone was doing it and I wanted to know what it feels like.
I read the previous pages, the previous stories from people I never knew and probably won’t ever meet and still I have no idea what to put in here. Who the hell cares? Is there someone actually reading this? Filing it carefully away for future generations?
Some people wrote about their pasts, but I don’t want to talk about it.
Some people talked about their time as slaves to the Arru’Thal, but I don’t have much to tell about it. Perhaps I’ll be lynched by an angry mob for saying this, but it wasn’t all that bad for me. I mean, I realize it was wrong, but it wasn’t distinctly different from my past life as an Earth dweller. As long as you obeyed, you were safe. When I didn’t (but that’s what my masters said, because I tried my best), I was sent to one of their outer strongholds as punishment. From there, like every other human being here, I was plucked by the Union Warriors and had the ‘Saved’ label slapped on.
Some of these pages are filled with dreams, ambitions, and hopes. This actually gave me pause. Doc Jones asked me the other day what it is that I want. I wanted to scoff at her question, yet it stuck with me. It’s what made me acknowledge I am in some kind of weird limbo.
She said you can’t envision your future if you don’t know your desires. It’s what drives people to envision their time to come. Goals, expectations, prospects.
How do others know? Is it what normal people do? Do they wake up one morning and just know their destiny and what it needs to be done to fulfill it? Or is it, perhaps, something more akin to those New Year resolution lists? I, myself, think that wants and desires don’t do much except birth more of the same. Perhaps it’s like an addiction; if I’ll start wanting something, I’ll never stop."
"So, I guess it’s my turn to give this thing a chance.
(Archivist note: the following paragraphs have been severely crossed out; reader discretion is advised.) Medical professionals used many labels to name what I’m going through. PTSD, anxiety disorder, depression. I call it being stuck. Not in the past, surprisingly. I was never one to dwell upon my hardest moments.
Truth be told, I can barely remember distant events and the more recent ones fade away with each passing day. How can you face your demons when the traumas are nothing but hazy memories and all is left to deal with are the broken pieces of your former self?
I feel stuck in the present for I can see no future, not for myself. Whenever I try to picture it, I fail and encounter only white noise.
Perhaps I have no future. Perhaps there’s only this present for me, with the irrational fears and constant anxiety. They are the worst at night. I try to calm them with my good-night ritual: check the lights -- leave one on in each room, check the door—lock it three times in succession, check the entire house again. And still, I can barely fall asleep (Archivist note: the rest of the sentence too faded to recover.)
No, this isn’t right. I’ll give it one more try before I deem it a botched attempt. I don’t even know why I’m trying. I guess everyone was doing it and I wanted to know what it feels like.
I read the previous pages, the previous stories from people I never knew and probably won’t ever meet and still I have no idea what to put in here. Who the hell cares? Is there someone actually reading this? Filing it carefully away for future generations?
Some people wrote about their pasts, but I don’t want to talk about it.
Some people talked about their time as slaves to the Arru’Thal, but I don’t have much to tell about it. Perhaps I’ll be lynched by an angry mob for saying this, but it wasn’t all that bad for me. I mean, I realize it was wrong, but it wasn’t distinctly different from my past life as an Earth dweller. As long as you obeyed, you were safe. When I didn’t (but that’s what my masters said, because I tried my best), I was sent to one of their outer strongholds as punishment. From there, like every other human being here, I was plucked by the Union Warriors and had the ‘Saved’ label slapped on.
Some of these pages are filled with dreams, ambitions, and hopes. This actually gave me pause. Doc Jones asked me the other day what it is that I want. I wanted to scoff at her question, yet it stuck with me. It’s what made me acknowledge I am in some kind of weird limbo.
She said you can’t envision your future if you don’t know your desires. It’s what drives people to envision their time to come. Goals, expectations, prospects.
How do others know? Is it what normal people do? Do they wake up one morning and just know their destiny and what it needs to be done to fulfill it? Or is it, perhaps, something more akin to those New Year resolution lists? I, myself, think that wants and desires don’t do much except birth more of the same. Perhaps it’s like an addiction; if I’ll start wanting something, I’ll never stop."
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