Nothing seemed to be much of anything anymore. It was life in a bottle, contained and never set free, forever miniaturized. Everything was on a scale model, and nothing was what it seemed. It was no longer days of sweet sweat and sticky ice cream, but instead days of dried blood and gooey potions. It wasn't a hot summer day, but instead quite possibly the last day of your life.
Little ships in bottles used to sit on your mantle, and you always asked your chuckling mother how they got the ship in there. She'd laugh and tell you that it was a secret, and that when you figured it out you were officially grown up. It was your little game, but still it seemed more of a right of passage.
You were the ship now. You were stuck in that bottle for no reason other than decoration. You got hung on mantles for show, as people poked, prodded, and shook you. You wondered now not just how you got in, but also how you'd get out. But it was an impossible endeavor, as the bottleneck was too narrow to slide out of, and you were too constricted to break the glass.
You sailed and sailed and sailed but you never got anywhere, and you knew that you never would. Each dark being killed was another rough wave that you passed over, except in the bottle there were no waves and so you wondered if you were losing your mind swinging a giant key and missing your friends and ice cream and wondering how the ships got into the bottle and how they got out…
You climbed through the bottleneck. You climbed…you slipped…you fell…and you watched everyone else poke and prod, but no one would break the bottle because it was the most important part. They needed you, they needed your bottle, because without it how would little boys grow up?
Would it ever be the same? You didn't think so, because soon the bottle would run out of air and you'll be suffocating while trying to crawl out before it was too late. And you wondered about tenses and why different ones are needed when things happen so fast that you can't tell the difference between past, present, and future.
They were crazy and annoying, and though you acted happy you really wanted to rip their throats out. Finding their king was all good and dandy, but did they really have to drag you into it? Why couldn't they help you find your friends? But none of this showed because you were a ship in a bottle for nothing but show, and what kind of show is angry depression?
So you crawled to the edge of that bottle, after shedding your sails and all else that made you a ship, and finally, finally you made it out. Finally you could taste the air outside, the air full of salt that wasn't stuffy from the cramped insides of a bottle. Your friends were there too, but you never told them of the bottle, and your mother thought you were grown up.
But you never figured out how they got the ships in the bottles.
0FIN0
I'm so sorry…I have no idea what this is. Seriously. No idea…I'm afraid to post it…
I don't own Kingdom Hearts…and apparently have no control over my muse either…
I pictured this as Soracentric, but that's just me…