Why? (A First-person Drabble on Sarah's Point of View)
DISCLAIMER: I am obviously not Scott Westerfeld. If I was, I wouldn't be posting this up on fanfiction...
I wake up to another night. I've seen no sunlight for weeks now. Sunlight. Even thinking about it makes my eyes squint and my lips curl. Soon, I won't even be able to mention the things I love anymore without the blasted anathema getting in my way. That's the only thing I can call it. An abomination, an evil thing, a curse. All of these descriptions get too personal. In any case, I won't be able to go back home. I won't be able to see him again. Ca-Ugh. My head. I can't even think his name anymore. Makes me wonder when I won't be able to stand Elvis's face anymore.
I look to the side of my bed. There is one of his posters. It's ripped, mangled, but… still there. I figure it'll be gone in less than a week. The anathema seems to be getting stronger by the day (night really) and soon, I won't be able to think of Elvis's name again, let alone one of his songs. This sadness rips me apart. I feel my emotions slowly leaving me, like a sinking ship. Inevitably, but slowly, it leaks, no hope at all for any survivors.
In my self-pity, I turn my attention to the rats that surround me. Lucky bastards. At least they never had a consciousness to lose. Their eyes gleam red, the same as always. Their tails hit each other as they squabble, the same as always. Their squeaks so annoying, the same as always. I clench my teeth and in my anger, pluck up a random rat and throw it against the nearest wall. The others finally shut up. My eyes glare accusingly at the dead rat, mocking it for its' imitation of live. Soon, it rises again and scuttles past me to reach the others… Or, at least it tries to. Reaching my hand out, I grab its tail and begin to devour the young rat, one joint at a time. It only has the chance to let out a single heart-wrenched cry, the death note of its kind. Each of its bones crunch loudly, as I reach for the marrow and tendons within the legs. The other rats do not notice. Instead, they continue to swarm around my feet, fangs snapping for the scraps I happen to drop. The bleeding warm flesh actually tastes good. Delicious even. Maybe it came from how I was living off them for the past week. The fools still hadn't learned to keep away from me. Idiots. But… at least I wasn't killing humans. No, if I killed humans... I would truly become a monster.
So you likey? Please read and Review!
-Hotaru