Jumper
By Saphron
Summery: A stoned Joren reflects his life and makes a life-changing decision. A Shadow. The wind. Irony. There is nothing to fear but fear itself. Welcome to Joren's head, otherwise known as hell. A songfic using Third Eye Blind's Jumper. Sequel to Last Resort.
NOTE: Very DDA-Dark, depressing, angst. Heavy material, hence the R rating. I advise you now-do NOT read this!
Are you all prepared for this? I'm warning you…this is seriously depressing…don't expect any happy endings.
~
I wish you would step back from that ledge my friend
You could cut ties with all the lies
That you've been living in
And if you do not want to see me again
I would understand
I would understand
And Kel followed. There was something dimly wrong with her following this boy who had tried so hard to destroy her. Here she was, pursuing her old enemy, involving herself in someone else's affairs, someone whom for years she had hated and despised…but now? Now she only pitied him.
This poor bastard.
His life was a wreck. A tangled overgrown wreck drowning in shadows and swirling illusions. His mind was screwed up, after all the dope he did he couldn't think straight. He was going to do something crazy; something he'd regret. You couldn't take back death…you could only prevent it…and that's what Kel was determined to do.
Maybe it was just her subconscious good nature that wanted her to save him. Maybe it was that she just didn't like to see people getting hurt. Maybe…
Maybe not.
The angry boy, a bit too insane
Icing over a secret pain
You know you don't belong
You're the first to fight
You're way too loud
You're the flash of light
On a burial shroud
I know something's wrong
Well everyone I know has got a reason
To say, put the past away
Kel felt sorry for him true…she even pitied him. Pity had replaced hatred. How could you despise someone who obviously needed so much help? While she didn't excuse his rude behavior trying to get her to leave…she could understand it. He had a lot of anger. A lot.
He was mad at the world for screwing with his life. He was mad because he couldn't be normal, which is all he desired. He was mad at the ignorance, the lack of understanding and sympathizing. And when he got mad he lashed out like a crazed animal locked behind bars. He had been degraded down to the sublevel below humanity. An animal.
But he wasn't a bird, he didn't have wings and weathers, and no matter how loud his soul cried to be free, he couldn't fly by jumping.
Or would it? Would his soul disembody itself, taking off in the air to leave its master behind? Would he really be better off dead…away from the pain, the suffering…could his soul fly without his body?
No…no. There was nothing to be gained by dying. He would just rot in hell. Once a soul's been corrupted, it's damn hard to purify.
She had to stop him.
I wish you would step back from that ledge my friend
You could cut ties with all the lies
That you've been living in
And if you do not want to see me again
I would understand
I would understand
His breath came ragged and deep, in the high cold altitude of the tower, a tiny cloud emerging from his body. It was his soul, desperate for freedom. It thought it could fly. It thought it could soar away. This breath that was his very life.
He panted. The air thinner and thinner, like the stretched out sanity that was the last of his life. He stopped.
He had reached the top, top of the world. He gazed down below him and saw the happy people at work in the marketplace. All content with their monotonous lives, working by day like a bunch of drones. All busy selling their goods, without even realizing it, their lives and wishes and dreams, not a care in the world but how many fish they could sell before the light vanished and plunged down below, turning the world deep with darkness. What they didn't know was that the light was already gone. Darkness reigned over the countryside, master of all, a shadow of doom.
This shadow was the lost dreams, the lost hopes, the lost wishes of the once happy people. It was composed of all the horrible things in the world that make you cringe in the corner softly weeping, helpless and unable to do anything but rock on your heels and cry. It was the anger, it was the hatred, it was the fear.
Fear? Fear of what? That was the irony. They had created the fear. The fear only existed in their own minds. And there was really nothing to fear. Nothing to fear but fear itself.
Well he's on the table
And he's gone to code
And I do not think anyone knows
What they are doing here
And your friends have live
You've been dismissed
I never thought it would come to this
And I, I want you to know
Everyone's got to face down the demons
Maybe today
We can put the past away
"Joren! Joren stop!" Kel called franticly, the effort causing her already bursting lungs to give a final puff of effort before threatening to stop working all together. She gasped in pain; it was ironic how she was sacrificing herself so to save him who did not want to be saved.
Surprisingly, Joren stopped. But not because of her call, he was heedless to all sounds except the thumping of his pounding heart and screaming of his enraged soul. Besides he could hardly hear her over the fierce homicidal wind that whipped around his head, roaring in his ears and stinging his eyes.
Whose side the wind was on was a debate. It was trying to knock him to the ground, knock some common sense into him. Or maybe it was angry that he had dared disturb it up on its sacred Mt. Olympus, and was lashing its great strength unmercifully upon him. For whatever the reason the wind blew in its ally and minions, the clouds.
They came, rolling in on the wind, dark black billows of smoky ire. Together they swarmed in giant masses, toppling over one another in a living sea of sirocco. They crashed and banged and loved and lived. Yet Joren paid no head. He ignored the clear signs of fury around him. Who cares what the gods said?
He had stopped because he had reached the edge.
I wish you would step back from that ledge my friend
You could cut ties with all the lies
That you've been living in
And if you do not want to see me again
I would understand
I would understand
He climbed carelessly over the rail, standing on the very ledge of the tower, a foot from the wall. There was nothing separating him and an endless drop but featherless air. That and the gods will.
He closed his eyes and lifted his arms slowly, high, up into the pure blessed air. He could feel the wind whipping at his cheeks, stinging with a beautiful, surreal kind of pain.
Kel was behind him, she was running; she was trying with all her might, ignoring her crippling fear of hights…but it was no good. He was too far ahead, he was standing on the balcony rim, he was tipping forward…he was falling.
Through the air as if in slow motion he fell, his arms outstretched beside his body, his hair flapping wildly with the onset of speed. His stomach dropped, his head pounded, his soul was plunged into darkness…
And then? Sweet, blessed, end.
Kel gripped the handle-rail moments too late. She was too late. He was dead. Never to rise again.
And a single tear rolled down her cheek. It was a tear of immense, odious, unspeakable sadness. The tear dropped down below…and with it, came the end of the world. The end of humanity. The end of a life. And the sky mourned, tiny droplets of water beginning to make their way earthbound, crying with rage and sadness and fear.
And the sun plunged down beyond the horizon, taking with it the last of the dreams, and died, never to shine again. Darkness laughed high and cold, sending shivers down Kel's spine. Fear spread across the land, enveloping all in its grim death-like folds. The end of the era was sparked by the death of one.
And through his dreamlike state he saw it all. From death he watched the world fold onto itself. And he was sorry for what he had done, and he was sorry for how he had hurt someone who cared for him, he was sorry for defying the will of gods and fate alike, but most of all he was sorry he was dead. No longer to bask in life's glorious sunshine, no longer to roam across the sweet smelling earth, no more to dance with happiness and joy…no more to love. And a single tear rolled down his cheek.
One, single tear.
I would understand…
Can you put the past away
I wish you would step back from that ledge my friend
I would understand…
~
Poem:
The Last Teardrop
By Saphron
I heard the Sky cry--as I died--
The clouds covering the blue Dome
Was like the Mist upon my face--
Whirling swirls shrouded in Misery--
The Smiles deepened--in false Hope--
Suffocating reassuring comfort
That meant nothing--only Pain
Flashed behind sorrowful Eyes,
The Firmament rumbled--Echoes of loss--
Flashes of Lighting breached the sky
Sparks of anger--living then dying
The Tempest's siege casting Shadows--
I could feel nothing--I had long ago passed--
From the realm of the Living
To the Dead--in Spirit
Only now the Heavens grieved--
Crystal gaze--falling Tears--
Slit wrists--Death's Shadow--
Approaching--so slowly--
The flood of Tears no more--
~
~*Saphron*~
Hmm…well, that's the end of the Joren Saga.
You know something-the script kept changing! First I was going to make him die, but then I decided that just be too mean; so I'd make him fall but really it'd be some sort of vision/dream. And it'd be better if he could be redeemed and saved by our favorite heroine, ending the last line of the fic with, "and together they climbed back over the rail, into the heart of the tower, and the world glowed with love and light." But you know something? As much as we love our Kel she isn't a goddess, and she can't fix everything. He was doomed to die, that was his destiny. Who says evil can never conquer?
Besides, today was a very bad day for me and I needed to get the angst and suicidal thoughts out of my system. Better Joren dies than me right? Hee-hee, j/k.
Yea I wrote the poem, but not specifically for this fic. It was written awhile ago for Humanities class, posted on ff.n, and inspired to throw in here by Teddy Bear, that wonderful reviewer. J Credit to Emily Dickinson, whose style I imitated.
Speaking of credit…disclaimer: The song is Jumper by Third Eye Blind, very good song. Joren and Kel belong to Tamora Pierce. FDR owns the quote "there is nothing to fear but fear itself", and I just borrowed it from him.