Work Text:
It was another usual night in the Tulpar, except no one should ever have to get used to that.
The lounge was quiet, and the nighttime window screen flickered lightly, painting the room in soft blues. It kept Anya company.
During every usual night in the Tulpar, Anya liked to sit by the screen; the artificial moon a quiet witness and companion to her sorrows. She was still wearing her uniform, her body aching for a warm shower and clean, comfy clothes after a long day of work.
But why even bother? He-
But why even bother? They only got 5 hours of sleep each night anyways.
Like every usual night in the Tulpar, Anya directed her sight to the upper right corner of the screen, a single dead pixel a reminder her and that artificial moon were the same.
Somehow, she had grown to find comfort in it.
She looked at the screen, she stared and squinted. Where was it?
She rubbed her eyes, blaming it on the exhaustion and excruciating pain of what had just-
She rubbed her eyes, blaming it on the exhaustion. She looked again.
But still, no sign of her dead pixel.
But it was there, she knew it was. In the back of her mind, it was always there. So, why couldn't she see it?
She didn't know exactly when, but she started tearing up, her terrified sight still fixated on the screen.
But she was miles away, wasn't she?
For a second, the idea of the pixel being missing felt scarily soothing. As if it had just been a figment of her broken imagination.
With a trembling hand, she touched her belly, still staring blankly at the upper right corner of the screen.
The dead pixel was there.
And as long as she was alive, it would always be.
In the back of her mind, it would always be there.