Disclaimer: None of it's mine save the plot and arrangement of words.
Author's Note: I know this is short, but it's basically a preview of one of my up-coming fics, Say Fake and Smile. That fic however, will not be in first person, and will be much longer. I just typed this up because it's a format I wanted to experiment with. The dialouge is extracted from Say Fake and Smile, by the way, so I hope all of you who like this, will read Say Fake and Smile, when it's revealed to the public.
And to my beta, if you are reading this, I am sorry if it still has mistakes. Your computer has been messing up a lot lately, which you have explained, but I am an impatient little brat. When ever you're able to give me the corrected version, I'll replace this with that.
Hate is something I can understand. At once, it was the only emotion that could fill the hole inside me, that could bring my thoughts away from the emptiness trying to consume me. Hate succeeded to push all other emotions and thoughts away until I was numb. The hate would seep further into my soul, until I didn't recognize it as hate. It was just there. Ironic really, that the only feeling I really enjoyed was the one which wouldn't let me feel at all.
Sooner or later, I gave up on continuing my charade. I abandoned the thought of hiding under a mask, I abandoned the thought of living this lie. I know how drastic that sounds, how weird. What you don't know, though, is that it sounded even weirder to me. I had been doing it for so long-- hiding, that is, and now I had suddenly decided to stop. No-one knew what to think. There was yelling, and hitting, and crying, until there was nothing. I was left to the sound of my own voice, I was left to be alone, left to retreat to my feelings of hate and emptiness. You know, I hate being alone. I hate the memories and images of death and decay that plague me, I hate the thoughts of doubt and uncertainty, I hate the feelings of abandonment, and I hate how when I'm alone, I'm the only voice I can hear. I hate how when I'm alone, I'm the only one that can accompany me. The thing I hate the most however, is that I'm no longer alone. Ever.
"Who are you talking to? No-one's here.."
"Why can't you hear them?"
"Why can't I hear who?"
"He makes me hear them, you know. He makes me listen to their screams.."
However, you're the opposite. You always preferred to be alone, only accompanied by yourself. You always preferred to be left to what ever feelings you try to hide behind. Things haven't changed really, even though you're there and I'm here, together but isolated at the same time. I sit here and study you from afar, such as in the old days, as you try your hardest to ignore me. There's a lot of things I've noticed in that time.
For one, your eyes are not silver. Those who say they are, lie. They are a clear, pale blue that contain flares of even lighter blue and a ban of light green that surrounds your pupils. They are not cold and demanding, like people say, either. They are intense and never ending. They are windows to your soul, if closely looked at. They portray all of your emotions, those good, and those bad. I could sit for hours and look at them, knowing that I was looking into the very depths of your being.
"Stop looking at me like that... Why are you looking at me like that?!"
"I'm looking at you like this because you're beautiful. You're a fallen angel, aren't you?"
"I am no angel. Now stop that nonsense and stare at the ceiling instead why don't you?"
"You have to be, or you wouldn't be looking back."
I could sit for hours looking at you, period, and I do, because when I look at you, I am alone. I can't hear the strange voice of another in my mind, I can't feel their emotions and urges, I can't see their memories. I only hear your breathing, I only feel the warmth radiating off of your body, and I only see your face. Because with you, I am alone at last.