'there are reasons.
so many reasons to smile.'
sorry. so sorry.
i'm so so sorry.
..
but it hurts so much to smile
right now.
X
When Aerith first meets Elymra,
all she can think about is comforting her.
X
When Elmyra meets Aerith,
she wonders why the child already looks
like she is saying goodbye.
--
xxflipside petal
by miss aerith
X
In her dreams, there is snow.
Glistening like glaze over pottery,
like crystals over quartz.
There is never an absence of it, and
it is always streaming down her window.
Come inside, a voice whispers,
(it must be her mother's. her real mom.)
But it's so pretty, she protests feebly, her fingers
painting planets across the fragile glass shield.
Come inside, where it's safe, where it's happy.
Where I need you. I need you.
The voice is different, it sounds like crying and heartbreak
and unspoken confessions.
She moves one foot forward.
--
The snow melts.
It's a black lake with crystal trees
spiraling with branches like snowy-veins
towards the frozen moon.
The moon was green.
(She just wanted to say goodbye.)
The first week in the house frightens her.
(She isn't used to sitting still.)
Her life became the run, and she had no time for lullabies. She had to whisper them into her
mother's ear, she had to hum over the faint beat of her mother's heart when she suddenly
could not run anymore.
She had ignored the woman named Elymra then. She ignored the cold wet droplets trickling down
her face to her curls, the one thing she was so proud of.
They always seemed to find their way nestled
in her mother's own lustrous brown locks. Instead she gently strokes the woman's whitening
face, humming softly, humming over the dead thump that was only growing quieter.
She seeks her mother's hand in the dark and cradles it to her chest.
"We're going to find it. You and me. Our Promised Land, okay? Yes, yes we will." She whispers cheerfully.
(Her lips are trembling, and so are her fingers. Why does her chest hurt so much? What is their Promised Land?)
Her mother's fingers travel to the crown of her head, lingering on the cold green ball
nestled safely in her hair.
The dead green eyes gaze into hers and whisper, You are, you are, You are.
XXXX
Midgar was dead and dark. It was like broken-washedupneverever dreams and so many condensed people who had forgotten how to breath because they were crushing each other.
Elymra always gently tugged on her hand, and Aerith could only dream of an impossibly clean world with blue skies and green grasses and--( she tries to remember what sunshine is but she forgot).
(Why is no one happy?)
(Somewhere below voices cry for her to save them. )
X
"Please don't cry, Mom."
Her mother's face is bewildered, and so is her own, and her fingers are shaking and she can feel hiccuping sobs bubble in her throat like syrup; like the strange green substance she alone could see as another voice whispered it's story to her before returning to 'The Planet'. (Is that the Promised Land?)
"Someone dear to you has just died. " Her voice cracks twice, and Elmyra moves to comfort her, but all the child can do is shake her brunette head and back away, (imsorryimsosorryimsosorry) plastering a wide fake, gleaming crystal-clear smile on her (perpetually sunshining) face and trying her hardest, (putting all she is) into the truth she wishes she didn't alone have to hear.
"His spirit was on it's way to see you, but he already returned to the Planet."
Like a whisper her trembling feet crumble and race towards the steps.
(I'm sorry.)
She doesn't understand why she has to be the Messenger.
X
A week later, she counts to ten before the sobs come from downstairs.
(We're very sorry ma'am, but your husband is dead.)
Her eyes close.
Sometimes when Elymra is busy shopping around the small network of rubble,
she skips along the street, (mud, dirt, paved road, a broken road) bending down with
childish precision as she sifts through grains of dirt; where deep things are buried.
She finds shards of glass.
(She pretends they're rubies.)
Face flushed, beaming, she hums a song no one has ever heard,
a deep song, a lonely song, the song of the earth's fingers
pumping through her vein's like her life's blood.
All this she does while stranding and looping together
a necklace of shards and thorns.
(She will make her own fairy-tale.
If she's lucky she might get a happy ending. )
(The voices tell her no.)
x
X
She is twelve years old.
She shines more brightly.
(She has to, because the
world is getting darker.)
She steps outside, tilting her head
halfway to give Elmyra one sweet,
loving smile.
(She feels like there won't be
enough days left to do it.)
(Bye, Love you, I'll be careful.)
X
Reno.
He has red hair.
He has a wide silly, dopey grin,
she thinks. It may charm a few
women; but to her, it makes her want
to giggle and tug on his childishly long hair.
"Hey there, Sis." He lifts his hand in a salute,
and Aerith thrills to the thought that he might
want to be her friend.
(It was when she turned around
that guns were aimed at her back.)
They will not stop chasing her.
Trembling behind a shaft of wood;
she hums feverishly as she loops
strands of hair, comforted only
by the fact that her mother's
voice is whispering in her ear.
(You are, you are, You are.)
It was through one rendevous
that she came upon the church.
x
Thirteen and ever-beautiful; she steps into the hallowed, broken church, her breath caught strangled in her throat; eyes glowing like green-bottles and streams of light seemed to react to her, her convulsing hands staring at the light with a look of wonder, intense, painful, hurting hope in her baby-girl eyes.
(She started bawling.)
She didn't know why, but somehow, it felt like every horrible, beautiful, wonderful, strange thing in her tiny, broken, shattered world added together. It sent her knees rocking, shaking as she stepped towards the center, hands barely brushing against the time-worn pews and scraping against the velvet curtains, before falling into the empty ripped apart floor-boards and staring into the single shaft of sunlight.
(For the first time, she felt like she could start crawling back to the surface.
The dark water didn't look so frightening anymore.)
She asked the voices in her head if she could keep this little piece of happiness all to herself.
It was a selfish thought, but it burned fervently in her head, and she swallowed slightly as
the only answer was silence.
(I think I might want to grow flowers.)
The ground seemed to comply with her; and she poured every ounce and every breath into the earth; shaking; eyes streaming with tears and her voice a feeble sob.
"...I want to grow things. Please let me grow things. Show me that I can surface, too."
Green light surged like the blood pulsing through the dirt, through her fingers into the ground,
and her tear-stained smile was raised to the crystal-rainbow windows; where the time-worn feminine figure entrapped in the mural
seemed to stare at her.
(The place where her heart was supposed to be was ripped out, leaving only empty lights ripping through it.)
X
The next day, she grabbed her mother's hand and showed her white and yellow blossoms.
The woman stared at her in gentle bewilderment, and sorrow once again crept back into the
corners of her eyes.
(Alone, alone, the last, the last)
X
(She's sixteen going on seventeen.)
His name is Zack.
He's very handsome, she thinks curiously;
stroking the black strands of hair that prickle at the slightest touch.
She curiously glances at the flowers staring at her, their unseen eyes
twinkling knowingly at her.
"Do you like him?" She questions; tilting her head so that her gold-painted curls
rustled against her face; a mural of rose-painted lips and trembling chocolate eyelashes.
Her fingers almost hesitantly linger on the crevice of his fine-shaped face;
waiting patiently for him to open his eyes.
(She didn't really have many people who fell from the roof.
Maybe he's an angel.)
When he asks her if she's one, she starts laughing hysterically.
(She feels desperate for someone to save her.)
The water was so dark.
X
Zack is a smiling person, she realizes.
He likes to grin and she likes to grin back.
They sometimes loop hands through the dark-stained streets
and he'll comment on her wheel-barrow of flowers; scooping one
oh-so stealthily from her 'un-noticing' eyes and popping it in her hair.
"You're the flower-angel, " He gushes to her; his blue-blue eyes
sky-splotches and she can only grin at him; her huge eyes full of
so much happiness that for a minute she forgets about
the dark lake, the people with guns, the voices,
and everything all together.
--
I have twenty three wishes, that will never ever come true.
(I'd really like to spend time with you.)
(Her happily-ever-after's are happily ever nevers.)
For five months she writes.
"Dear Zack,
You better buy me something good, okay?
I'm guessing you're trying to send a letter
while trying to fit the enormous package with it,
right? I'm a little confused at why it's taking you
so long, but I'm sure you're busy--"
She swallows; her throat thick and her eyes
dry and dull. Somehow it hurts to write the last
line more than anything else.
"I miss you. "
X
And so she bottles him away into her little world; her secret heart, that
beams constant sunshine that sometimes it swells up and hurts because
she doesn't know how to make it stop.
And she stops counting the days because her shoulders feel heavy,
and he isn't there to scoop her up and tickle her, or say the corniest
lines or blink his round, strange, blue-blue eyes in her face and
say, I love you, I love you, I love you.
(And she knows he never will; because somewhere in the distance
of her church she can feel the green-syrup hover over her shoulders;
and all she can do is look to the sunlight and drown all over again.)
And then there was Cloud.
And he was beautiful.
And for a minute she hates him because
she thinks almost that he's her first love,
(what happened to happily ever after?)
..But it's only a lie, and she stopped believing in it,
(even though she wishes people around her would.)
Cloud made her laugh alot. His clumsiness,
the way he made her giggle with his blank stares
and the tentative gentleness that seeped through
his fingers when he walked her home.
She starts to ask Zack in her mind if he's happy and okay with this,
but she thinks he's probably just busy and she cheerfully lies to herself
that someday he'll come home and start punching Cloud to pieces.
(She hopes he doesn't punch his face. He's a terribly beautiful boy.)
X
She tiptoes into the guest room; hands behind her back; green eyes shining
brilliantly as she whispered in a hushed voice, (if i speak too loud will you disappear?)
"Cloud?"
Her heart hurts when he looks at her.
(He is quite terribly beautiful, isn't he?)
"Goodnight."
When she closes the door, she feels like
he'll never walk in front of her again.
(Alone, alone, alone.)
X
Between the adventures and moments between that good-night,
Aerith only said goodbye to her mother once.
(She tried her hardest to smile extra big this time.)
She just had a feeling she'd never ever get the chance
to do better.
(The lake water sloshes at her feet.)
"I want to come too."
Tifa glances at her, at her wide-spaced eyes
and her sweet simple smile.
Aerith thinks she's a really pretty girl; and she promises
herself that she'll be her first slumber parties and her first
whispered secrets, because there's something about
Tifa's beauty that made her isolate everyone else.
(And she can have a friend that talks to her this time.)
"I'm curious, you know?"
His impossibly blue eyes are like his, but they're colder,
and they have forgotten how to love.
"About the Cetra?" (Is that what I am?)
"Many things." (I'd really like to spend time with you.)
When Aerith follows Cloud out of the dark world;
she feels like for the first time she's coming up for air.
(When she says thank you, she feels like it will never be enough.)
XX
And Aerith started walking with tomorrow over her shoulders
and yesterday under her feet, and hope in her smile
and warmth in her hands.
(And she forgot about the lake, and the future,
and the final tomorrow hanging hidden in her hair.)
And she felt so happy, so happy, because walking
with him, had never made her feel so free.
And these people, these people, were family,
and they were precious, and for a split-second
Aerith realizes that she will jump into the dark water for
them.
X
They travel to places, all the while she insists to group with
Tifa, because Tifa was laughter and shyness, and she made it her
duty to teach her how to speak her mind, and not worry about
the consequences.
And Tifa taught her to be stronger, and to fight harder,
and to run faster, and to shine brighter.
(And Cloud made her want to fly.)
But the truth always did hang over her shoulders;
and when they reached the Canyon, she felt like
a tidal wave of futures and hopes and dreams
weighed on her shoulders like a world.
(Goodbye comes so so soon.)
She can't help but ask him if he'll take her flying someday.
Somewhere up high, where her wings aren't broken.
"I'm really looking forward to it!"
(Even though she knows she'll be sinking down below.)
"I'm all alone..."
She can't drag him into the water with her.
She loves him too much, and she apologizes
every inch of her breath to Zack, because
this boy has become her everything.
"...But--I--" She caught it, and she almost
wants to wrap her arms around him and start
screaming. She wants Cloud to save her.
(You can't save me, you can't save me, "We're here for you, right?"
I want you to, oh God, but you can't, you can't,
I'm sinking, I'm sinking--don't you see?)
"I know, I know..but.. I am.. the last.. Cetra."
(And I'm going to make you cry someday.)
X
So many words are strangled in her throat;
and the fireworks are beautiful, but like her,
they're short lived, and they vanish into the sea
of stars.
"Cloud, I'm searching for you."
(She wants to whisper she loves him but
it's too late for that, and it will only make
the drowning part harder.)
"But I'm right here..."
(She can't help but fall in love with him.)
"...I mean, I want to meet you."
(She can't help but hate to say goodbye)
X
And the voices are louder,screaming to stop the silver hair
and cold green eyes and the steel-sword and the black orb.
And they lap like the dark water rising to her ankles; sloshing
around her limbs; and she can't help but turn and look behind
her at the sun, and the beautiful things.
She wants to belong with them, but she doesn't want
to live without them either.
(And she owes them that.
She owes him that. )
So she lies to the both of them
one more time.
(There will be no more fairy-tales.)
I'll be going now.
I'll come back when it's all over.
(She's laughing hysterically, desperately;
muffling her screams with her fists and
curling into a ball as the sobs come.
Because she won't ever come home,
and she can't turn away.)
And she can't help but smile one last
brilliant smile at him, because there's so much
about him worth smiling for, and the world had
so much worth giving up for,
and he really is
(so so ) beautiful, and she knows it's selfish
but she's really happy that he'll be the one to catch her.
And she wishes a little bit longer that she's in a fairy-tale world,
and she's thankful she waited a little longer on her prayer,
and at least it's Cloud.
(At least it's him.)
And she thanks the voice in her head for letting her have one final goodbye.
(I pray for happiness, I pray for happy-endings, I pray for a world
where he can live and someday smile. But oh I wish--oh I wish--)
And Aerith smiles a little bit bitterly as the green orb flies from her hair;
and she's so so tired, and there are no more voices, and it's silent,
and it's quiet, and --
(Please Cloud be happy, live in the world, smile, laugh,
grow, love move on--loveyouloveyou--)
And she pours every word that's being strangled in her smile
and she let's every wish and every feather of her broken wing
spill out like her blood that's flying in his beautifulbeautiful face
and she let's go, and she says goodnight.
And this is how her fairy-tale ends.
(Little flowers, are you happy?)
Okay, angst Aerith. Yes, she has a darker side. She wasn't a pixie, okay?
Please review. This took me like a week. Kind of obvious what the black water was.
Since, green moon is Holy and black water is her being ahem, buried in the lake.
(God, poor girl.)
Oh, and listen to Lilium. Fits Aerith perfectly.
Um, review this please. Srsly. My hands hurt.)