[Out of Milliways: Suite 132]

She may have been stupid enough to invite her brother in, but Mel had kicked him out as soon as she'd reached her bed. Both of them. It's her room, and she wanted the time alone.

But now, she can't sleep. The bed's too big.

Too big, too empty, and too exposed.

Eventually, she rolls off the bed. and crawls amongst the debris underneath it. There she lies with her eyes open until eventually she passes back into a fitful sleep.

Tomorrow she will find people.

[Theatrical Muse: Write about Losing Control]

You don’t.

It just ain’t an option. Don’t lose control. Ever.

Lose control in the middle of a fight, you die. You hafta keep focused, all the time. Let the fight flow through you, be the Slayer, what you were born to do. Lose control, let some lurk or a demon get the upper hand, and it’ll be the second last thing you ever lose.

Lose control in a bar fight, forget you who are, what you are, forget what you’re fightin’, and the next thing you know you’ve swung a suckerpunch at some norm and put their head through a wall. And you’ve got the wrong sort of blood on your hands, again.

Lose control on a job, slip up for a second, cross a beam, trip a wire, and you’ll blow the whole thing, lose the job, ruin your reputation and your boss’s (this is the worst. Fishstick’ll never forgive a foul like that), and probably end up in cell.

Lose control in life, let someone get close, start carin’, and all you’re doin’ is markin’ a target for the lurks that wanna hurt you. Through the people close to you. Can’t afford that.

Losin’ control?

Don’t.

Fandom: Joss Whedon's Fray
Muse: Melaka Fray
Word Count: 199