Everyday...
Everyday...ever since I saw that boy where my brother worked...
Everyday... I snuck out of the hospital, avoiding the nurses and avoiding my father.
Everyday... I snuck out...to see his face...
To read his thoughts...
To see our paper planes...
…
...
~ Chapter 1 - Sunshine ~
...
"Mother in heaven... I am so sorry for once again disobeying dad... but...mom... if this is it for me... if I can't get out of this hospital alive, then please... please... forgive me and let me see him... one last time..."
I silently pleaded to my mother as I furiously ran past the nurse's head desk, avoiding curious gazes. Tears streamed heavily down my face. Every step and every stride brought pain shooting through my veins... but I don't care. I need to see him...
If this was the last moment of my life...
...My only wish before I go, is to see him.
I bursted through the hospital doors, my pace significantly weakening. My heart was painfully banging against my chest, the adrenaline rush from earlier quickly being replaced by fatigue... but I don't care...
...I need to see him.
I fly through a familiar path...the path that my brother always took to go to his work... and the one I took when I decided to follow him...
...that warm summer day when I met him.
It was about a year ago, when I was still fairly well. I followed my twin through out town, curious as to what the nature of his job was. My brother had to get a job because...my dad´s pay as a rancher could not support... the family...the farm...
... and my medical bills.
I was diagnosed with a heart disease when I was 16 months old...the name of the disease was so odd and so long, that I forgot it. Expensive medical care and operations were done on me, and for a while, I was a normal, happy little boy. I ran through Draco Plateau with my twin brother... tackled Dragos and spent days running through mud... chasing grandpa's chickens... and being a kid... But... even then, I knew... that I was going to die. I knew that these fancy operations and medicines would never cure me completely... that all of them just delayed the inevitable. I knew that this sickness will eventually take my life. I knew I was going to die at the age of nine.
Later, when I was fourteen, that premonition was confirmed. While I was at school, talking to Nan, I felt a twinge in my chest, a painful thump that sent me sprawling on the floor. My lungs burned, begging for air and I feel the dark embrace of unconsciousness quickly creeping up from behind me. I see a sea of faces, blurred like I'm in dream state, one of them being my brother's...
Then I blacked out.
I woke up at the hospital, my dad and my brother were looking down on me with worried expressions on their faces. I was glad to know that I was safe in my family's tight embrace... but... I know... I know... I won't last. I lost consciousness again and woke up a week later. The doctors told my father that the duct connecting something to something in my heart bursted... and that I have to stay at the hospital, so that they could monitor me.
My father could say nothing, he could only adjusted his hat.
I was confined to a hospital bed, with nurses, especially Tess, always looking out for me in case my vitals fail, and Dr. Andonuts, a blond freckled surgeon monitored me and my weak body, which was already frail due to the fact that I have asthma. I could not go home any longer, for the fear that I could die, though I could still walk.
...
I was the fragile one, my twin being the strong, little boy my mom had always wanted. Tess always thought, although she never told Mom, that I would not make it.
...and...maybe...she is right...
Being confined to a bed all day had made me lonely... the only thing I was able to do was look out the window. Every morning, I would watch as my father and brother took the path next to my window, saying a silent goodbye to me. My dad would then head upland, towards Mt. Oriander, to Tazmily Village where my home and our ranch is. My brother would then watch my dad disappear, before heading off to his work. Everyday, I would watch my twin leave through an alleyway by the side of the hospital...
...and everyday, he would come home, also through that alley. Once, I casually asked him what his job was. All my brother did was stare back at me, and coldly said: "Classified information. Can't tell."
… the way he talks, it's like he's part of the army, or something...
Not knowing where my twin worked, bothered me. In fact, so much that one, cool spring day, I changed out of my hospital gown, got into my striped shirt and followed him through the alleyway behind the hospital...
...
At the end of the alleyway, there was a field of grass that stretched on for miles. There were lush trees that give cool shade from the warm , colourful wild flowers sprouted here and there, adding spring beauty to the fresh green grass. The breeze smelled fresh and a hint of cherry blossoms, which bloomed in a nearby grove, tickled my nose. It was nature at its full bloom. It was absolutely awe-inspiring. This was rare in the world that the Pig Masks created...
However, in the middle of all this beauty, there was a dark smudge. A grey haze hung around the site like a black veil. The skies above it were grey, likely because of the fact that smokestacks, tens of them, spew ash and dust into the air, slowly poisoning the surrounding beauty.
On closer inspection, the site was prison camp, full of those lazy, sleazy Pig Masks. It was disgusting. They were lying around like that pig trying to get a tan on Cerulean beach. Most were stuffing greasy junk into their faces, some were drinking booze... I am partially surprised that the Pig Masks had not yet destroyed the nature around them... But the one thing that really surprised me... was...one man. One boy of about my age stood out from the crowd, like a lone sun in the middle of the night. He was dirty, but not like the Pigs that surrounded him... It was because...he was... a prisoner. I could tell, even if he did not have chains or restraints of some sorts. I could tell. His face was streaked with mud and dirt. His hair was a big mass of tangles, his blue-and-gold shirt tattered and full of holes... but.. somehow, something inside me told me to separate him from the Pigs.
...That he was special.
He must have felt that someone was staring at him, because I saw him turn around and stare back at me. A hot, searing feeling burned through my cheeks... Wait... am I blushing...? My mind is telling me to look away, to hide the rouge in my cheeks, but.. once again, curiosity and fascination won over me. Now that I see his face, I was able to fully take in his features. His clear blue sapphire orbs gazed back, mesmerizing me. His face was disheveled, like he hasn't showered in ages... yet... there was an urge to just...
...
...to just...
...
...no...
…
...
I quickly looked away now, his eyes a bit too much for me. They were just so.. sad...and so lonely...
"Talk to me", they were saying.
Yes...talk to you...
...
A memory came into my mind... a reminiscence of the past, when my family was brutally, mercilessly torn apart. I was nine years old, still just a child; when my mother died. That night, when the murderer came attacked her, and left her to bleed to death, she motioned for us to come out from our hiding place... to come close to Mommy.
Then... in a soft, hoarse whisper, she told my brother and I... that...
"If you even need to talk to me, you can reach me by paper plane."
She then, shakily, lifted her head, groaning in pain. She kissed our foreheads one last time... told us that she dearly loved us... and then... a mere second later, her head collapsed onto the ground...
...dead...
Slowly waking up from my depressing reverie, I looked at the prisoner for the umpteenth time today; his jet-black hair waving in the wind, his back towards me.
...
"If you ever need to talk to me..."
...
"...You can reach me..."
...
"...by paper plane..."
…
..of course...
...
...of course!
Quickly, I rummage through my pockets, producing a black, worn-out pen. As for the paper counterpart, I hastily scribbled on the back of a grocery receipt, my chicken-scratch writing crowding the once-white page. Then, I carelessly discarded the black pen onto the wet, dewy grass. On my lap, I folded a small paper plane, perfect for the job... just how my mother taught me...
I stood up, the action bringing a tingling sensation flowing through my legs. With as much force as I could possibly muster, I flung the paper plane through the air. It flew a few meters above the ground, flying over the barbed wire fence and soaring through the dark, murky sky. After a few seconds of being airborne, it started its descent. I watch it slowly glide towards the ground, landing exactly where I wanted it to...
...on the shiny gravel right next to the boy's bare feet.
He turned around, his face a mix of surprise and curiosity. He bent down, picked up the paper plane and resumed gazing at me with those deep ocean eyes of his. I motioned for him to unfold the plane, mouthing the words "open it" along with the action. Slowly, like a historian unwrapping a treasured artifact, he unfolded the tiny paper plane, his fingers trembling. His eyes thoroughly reading the page.
After a few moments, he let his eyes drift away from the paper and fixing his gaze onto me, the boy started to run towards me... his hair blowing in the soft breeze. From a distance, his eyes were already an intense, searing blue...but as they were coming closer, they dazzled me. They were icey blue, like the arctic oceans, yet, they were smoldering...warm...
He stopped in front of me, behind the wire fence, soft gasps escaping from his lips. A few moments later, they formed words, a gentle voice accompanying the words.
"...I...I don't have a pen..." He said, his voice soft and shy, but his eyes were bold and bright...
...I felt myself smile at him.
...
'Yes... those beautiful eyes... I love to stare at them... every afternoon after that day... I love the feel of his hands, warm against my hypothermic fingers. I love his tanned skin... his sweet smile... His gorgeous black hair...
...
...but I don't know if I can bring myself to look at them today... I don't want... I don't want him to see my tears... I have to be strong...'
I sadly thought as I staggered through the alleyway, the darkness covering me like a false security blanket. My body longs to succumb to the darkness, to rest... to be at peace...
...but my heart...
My heart, which was throbbing painfully and sorrowfully, wants desperately... to see him...
...To see his raven black hair...
...To see his warm, cerulean eyes...
...To see his wonderful smile...
...To feel the touch of his hand...
...To hear his voice...
...To read our paper planes.
...
My heart longed for the long afternoons spent with him, smiling back at me, his eyes twinkling... dreams of days that could have been spent together had I been well, haunted me... taunting me with promises of what could have been...
Days of friendship...companionship...and possibly... love.
My heart longed for those days, days that will never come into reality, like a flower begs for the sun...
I have never felt so...so... helpless and pained in my 16 years of life. I have never been so tired, never been so physically exhausted. Never have I ever felt so much grief... never...so emotionally drained... My body is weak... and will alone is the only thing keeping me going...
...the will to see him...one last time... before...
...
...before...
...
...before...
...
Trying hard to shake off the thought in my head, I gathered the remainder of my strength. As I emerged from the alley, I ran through the green meadow I once admired. The once emerald green grass was now coated with dust and ashes that erupt from the smokestacks, like a volcano spewing lava and debris. The fresh, cool breeze was sadly replaced by slow, thick, musty, air. My lungs now scream for mercy, my chest heaving, trying hard to grab at as much air as it can. My mind is telling me to stop running, to go back to the hospital, and return to the care of the doctors where I know I would not be hurting this much... but my heart, which is probably the part of me that is hurting the most right now, begs for a last goodbye...
...a goodbye to sunshine...
...a goodbye to life...
...
...and...
...
A goodbye to Ness.
~End of Chapter~
Anyways, here is the promised fanfic parallel of "Prisoner" which got a review from one of my fanfiction heroes...~. I cried tears...of joy... the moment I read it...
Paper Planes is different from Prisoner in terms of tone. 'The Prisoner' is a more informal, more prose and impersonal approach to Lucas and Ness's love story. It skims Ness's life as a prisoner before, during and after Lucas.
Paper Planes is a really descriptive story, almost as if the reader is or is watching Lucas with their own eyes. The story of this fanfic is pretty simple: Lucas is deathly ill, Ness is a prisoner... they are just in such different worlds... but one fateful day, a paper plane brings them together, making them slowly realize a love so powerful and strong that can transcend into the next world. A simple plot.. But, really, writing it is not so simple. It's difficult to crawl into Lucas's shoes and really feel his pain. Real difficult, and I'm glad to finish chapter one. (I had to get my blood drawn and that IV is flipping painful, so…I can just imagine…*shudder*)
I really do hope you guys like it.I personally somewhat relate to this song, and more importantly, the fanfic. I love it, and I feel what Lucas is feeling in this story, not that I'm terminally ill or anything (THANKFULLY.) It's just that the story tells of love that has to be separated by circumstances (and that love I know of,). But Ness and Lucas overcome that, proving that, in the end, they can smile and be with each other, without a fence between them... they can be together without the help of a paper plane.
I especially love the part when he tells... Oh...wait... that's in the next chapter... I better not tell ; 3. But, if you are an avid LucasXNess fan, I am pretty sure you're going to find this piece interesting... I hope? Please leave a comment. Critique is highly encouraged. ^ ^
Thank you, thank you~!