So, this is for thecurrentcontest over at 667 Dark Avenue. Lyrics are from the Gothic Archies song "Smile," and yes, it is an ASOUE fic. This is a reflection on Clarissa Dalloway from the Hostile Hospital, "who did not seem to have anything wrong with her but was staring sadly out the window of Room 1308". That person always kind of intrigued me.
Smile,
no one cares how you feel.
The cold steel is cutting into my toes, and I'm gripping the sides of the window pane with a fierce strength. For once there isn't anyone around to tell me what I should be doing, what I should be feeling. So this is what I'm feeling.
I feel like I could be happy if someone would sit and ask me what's wrong. I wish someone would stay for a while and talk instead of handing me some balloon and singing about measles and bile. The bastards. They say that they're trying to make me smile, except that they sing it, not say it, and I haven't smiled once.
Sometimes I think somebody wants to stop and see me, but they don't. Maybe they have their own problems or maybe they're sick and they have to take care of it, because they never seem too happy either. I'd just be happy to know how much pain that they're in.
Be vicious, vain and vile.
Everything's yours to steal if you'll just smile.
There are different kinds of sick, some kinds we make up. But I guess we're all sick somehow. They say I'm sick for the way I think, I say I think the way I do because they say I'm sick.
I think maybe the world's just too crowded, and we overreact and tear each other apart. We push and pull apart when we need to slow down and pay more attention to each other. Someone should pay attention to me. So this is what I'm doing.
There's a world to beguile.
You can make this world kneel if you'll just smile...
I think I smell smoke, is it possible somebody set this place on fire? It doesn't matter, I've already made my decision.
Crouching, I give Room 1308 one last glance, and I let go. I jump.
And I smile.
No one cares how you feel.