This feeling. I can't describe it.
Need to leave. Need it so bad. Where the hell am I going?
Fu-fu-fu-blegh! I can't do it. Nope. Not going to curse.
Flip someone off though? I just might. I really feel like doing it. Yeah . . . I'm doing it.
"Something on your mind, Mr. Dragneel?"
"Nope, just bored." And I hate your pathetic ass. Go to hell you stupid, ugly piece of concrete powered propeller to hell with forks stabbing you in the stomach! Yeah, take it in the stomach, asshole! Cause I'm so tired of this crap. And I'm hungry! And I'm tired! Can't you get that through your thick skull?! Smh . . .
Yeah . . . man, if only I had enough energy to say all that. But nope. So, "bored" it is.
"You do realize that your own actions brought you to this point, yes?"
Wow. I actually rolled my eyes so extremely that it hurt. Who does that? Who can actually make their own freaking sockets sore rolling their eyes? I think I just invented a new method of torture. I need to write that down. Where did I put that damn pencil . . . oh wait, I broke it. It's on the floor. Screw you, pencil.
". . . you didn't hear a word I said."
"What?" Did he just insult my ears? Awwww, hell nah! I can hear a rat pissing a mile away. He has to be drinking acid . . . or something else because acid would kill him. "You should still drink it though," I mumble, then look down because I wasn't supposed to say that out loud. My thoughts like to do that. Flood into my mouth and ignore my mind.
My mind will be like, Hey, get back in the mouth and stay there! Don't you dare reveal my mastermind plan! I'm warning you, asshole.
And my thoughts will be like, Screw you, I need to be heard. I WILL FIGHT FOR MY FREAKING RIGHTS, DAMMIT!
Political warfare. Then I'll have a seizure because my body will be engaging in a mental and physical warfare fight. Who loses in this battle? Me, of course.
. . .
That didn't make any sense to nobody. Damn, this is what happens when you don't take your medicine, Natsu. This is what happens. Such a bad boy you are.
But hey, at least I'm not eating fire. That freaks people out. No one ever gets that it's a magic trick. PEOPLE LIKE MAGIC, WHAT THE HECK! Something is wrong with people.
That's the issue. People forget that magic is supposed to be fun. And then people forget that fire is what keeps them from freaking freezing in this weather.
Hmmmm, for your information, the teacher is still rambling. Yeah, not repeating it because I don't care. Yep. I had a choice to include his dialogue but I opted out of it. That's right, I change my mind like that. Snap! SHIFT!
So, be ready. Imagine you're playing a videogame . . . except your controller works like my "Dad's" dishwasher. Yeah, the dishwasher? It sucks. So, if your control equals the dishwasher, than your controller sucks. I control this world, not you. At least, not yet.
Right. Me equals world. You equals pathetic loser forced to watch . . . or maybe we're both really just watching something because I had to write this down somewhere. Or maybe, no one is truly watching. We could be sleeping and this could all be a dream.
Hmmmm, crap, I confused myself. Okay, let's back track. I'm in detention. I hate this teacher. In fact, I hate a lot of people, but especially this teacher right now because he's keeping me in this prison (replace prison with institution. Now replace institution with shitty school. Now, replace shitty school with obvious . . . then do a facepalm. And don't freaking cheat on me either. Not a cheap mental palm to the face. Actually lift up your hand and smack yourself in the face).
(. . .)
(Did you do it?)
Anyway . . . I actually do magic tricks. I wasn't kidding about that. Well, you'll think it's magic. Everyone else thinks it's magic. I'M ACTUALLY ABLE TO EAT FIRE THOUGH! But, again, I usually say magic cause it's easier . . . and because "Dad" doesn't like it when I tell people about it. So, loopholes, lying, don't give a crap, yeah . . . you get it.
I'm just going to say you get it. Cause if I say you get it then you get it. Got it? Get it? I totally get it.
. . .
Is everyone gone now? I hope no one is still reading this. I really don't want anyone to read this. Okay, I'm not in detention. I'm at a place where I don't want to be. I'm somewhere that doesn't exist (to me). And the world is screwed (cause I say so . . . I mean, it sure feels screwed).
But, I have no choice. I have to put down something.
Well, I think I scared everyone away with my daydream earlier. I like daydreaming about detention. It's the most normal place for me. Sad, huh? Being locked in a classroom is the most normal thing in the world . . . that's my niche. That's a sad niche.
. . . why am I talking like people are actually here? No one's here! That's right. I'm alone. Yep. Perfect.
No. Not perfect. This sucks.
Okay, ugh, don't wanna! Don't wanna! Adhodhodjlkdhklkjlskjdlshjkd! I DON'T WANT TO WRITE! THIS ISN'T FAIR!
UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUuuuuuuunnnnnnnnggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. . . .
. . .
This will take a while.
Name: Natsu Dragneel
Age: Why the hell do you want to know? You expect me to know? What if I don't know, huh? I'm offended that you expected me to answer this (it ain't seventeen, that's for sure. 'Cause seventeen-year-olds don't act like this). Yeah, go away, stalker.
Skill set: Eating fire, eating fire, love fire, FIRE! FIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! Quick, someone hit the alarm! Cause. There. Is. Fire.
Heh . . . nah, I have powers. Related to fire. Sentence above.
Reason you want this job: Um, it looks cool? I get to have a gun? You know, in my mind. I'm actually not going to get a gun, I know that. But it makes the job easier. Easier to catch criminals when you have a gun, no? Guns are cool. Sons of a gun are even cooler.
Previous Employers: Secret Service, FBI, CIA. Actually, unknown. (Cause if I actually worked for those companies I'd have to kill you after you read this application). Unknown. My previous employers are dead. Okay, they're dead to me. They're alive for you. So, you'll get along with them but if you mention me to them it will be weird. You'll get blank stares, the stares of people who have tried very hard to wish for that very name you uttered to disappear on this side of the planet (any side of the planet, for that matter).
And . . . done!
Man, aren't mock applications fun to fill out? Yeah, well, my counselor needs to take a chill pill. I think this will lighten her spirits. Trust me, what I showed you is only the first half of six pages. Hah, I wish I could see her face when she reads this but I can't.
Nah. I have work. You see, I already have a job. Yep, you heard correctly. Job. Me. Making money.
Yeah, my salary is in the . . . trillions. No, billions. In my head. Cause, the ACTUAL money that gets passed to me is invisible. I mean, I know that my work must be so substantial, so sought after that "Dad" just can't express his gratitude with real money. Naw, he likes my work so much that he has to pay me through gestures.
So, my invisible paychecks are slaps, a few nail digging skin arrangements, and sometimes the ever thoughtful knuckle-fist-embrace.
. . . Oh, I just revealed that I work for my "father". Jeez . . . I totally killed my cool factor. Dammit, I suck at this! I have to build myself up, not trample over that shit! Urgh, okay, no more talking about "Dad".
Um, so one of my jobs is . . . um, transporting people from a specific dimension into another dimension. You know . . . there's the . . . uh . . . "alive" dimension. And there's the people who exist in "other". You know, the place that isn't specifically the "alive" dimension. I . . . it's . . .
Okay, okay, I have to stop that. I . . . I'm ki-ki . . . I'm ki-ki-ki-ki-ki . . . WHY IS THIS SO HARD TO SAY?! I mean, WRITE!
It's K. I. L. L. Three letters, Natsu, three! Okay, now the full word.
Killing. Repeat. Killing. Repeat. Killing.
Good. Full sentence now.
I'm killing people. Why? Reason equals job, yes? Right. I'm killing people for my job.
Man . . . I almost gave myself a migraine with that. Whew, first hurdle is gone!
Okay. Next topic. Must draw a straight line. Hmmm, the hell? I don't even know what that is? Stop shaking hand and draw the line!
THERE! I swear, this is the fourth pencil I've broken. I need to figure out how to fix my hand. The fingers just keep twitching. That's not normal, it really isn't.
Okay, now, the assignment. So, there was this person who arrived here months ago. By boat? By plane? By car? By infinity? THE GODS.
Yeah, no one knows. Hmmm, I like fairy tails. I'm going to say this in fairy tail format. Fairy tails are awesome. Wait, fairy tail? Did I seriously just misspell fairy tale five times? Wait, let me count. One, two, three, four . . . it was four. Okay, four times.
. . . there's something wrong with my brain.
Whatever, fairy tails rule! I . . . SCREW SPELLING!
Take that, grammar demon! I'm writing in pen now! I'm aware of your presence! I SEE ALL EVIL! YOU CAN NOT HIDE FROM ME!
DEATH. STARE.
Smh . . .
Now, once there was a boy. He was strange. He had connections. He was insane.
We became best friends after I failed to kill him. It's kind of embarrassing. I walked up to him and said, "I'm going to kill you."
Well . . . okay, actually what I said was, "Your eyes are big." I was thinking, I'm going to kill you. Sorry, switched them by accident.
It's just a thing. I have to insult the person first. The thing that stands out is what I attack verbally. If I notice the best parts of the person first then they'll be able to transcend into the "other" place easier. I believe that with all my heart, which is why I make sure to point out every painstakingly beautiful detail. Makes me feel good. It makes them feel bad and then their bad thoughts attract my hand to their throat . . . or my knife, whichever comes first.
Well, uh, so Sora said, "They're enormous. I see dead people because the rods and cones in my eyes have expanded outside this dimension." Then he took my hand and shook it. "Don't sugarcoat the obvious. Clearly, my eyes aren't simply big."
Yeah. That's what he said. I know, it's unbelievable, right? People don't do that. They don't insult themselves after I insult them! It doesn't make sense! You defend, not encourage. The fuck?
Yeah . . . so, it messed me up because I was supposed to be praising him in my head and he's . . . like, making me think of corpses and bug eyes and . . . he's just so freaking cool, OMG!
NO! You're not supposed to like him! Kill him! Kill him now before "Dad" figures out you're slacking again!
So . . . hold on a sec. This color is hurting my eyes. The pen color. Yeah, my eyes are sensitive. Just deal, okay?
See? Did that take long?
Okay, so Sora is cool. Wait, he was cool. I mean, he was creepy because after he said that he asked me for my number. Said something about being worried and about how there was something about me that was . . . weird.
Yeah, he thought I was weird. It's the other way around, bitch!
Sheesh, why did I do that? That's a bad word to use. Okay, actually, I don't care really. Sora doesn't like that word. His bitch-word-shaming infected me so now I feel this knife of guilt stabbing me repeatedly when I use it.
Guilt. Stab!
Guilt. Stab!
Guilt. Stab!
Guilt. Stab!
Guilt. Stab!
Now, say that five times fast.
No, it's not a tongue twister. Read that part out loud. It sort of rhymes, right? Doesn't it? I could seriously be a cool poet. Everyone would dig my poems because when they start reading it they'll smile because it's like a symphony pouring out of their mouth. The lyrics are shit, but that beat is so catchy. You know, it makes you squee inside. Squuueeeeeeee! You know, like a kid saying "weee". Squee is the fangirl equivalent to weee. Girls can do that and be cool.
But I break the rules. So, I say squeee! SQUUEEEEEE.
Um, what was I saying? Yeah, bitch. Why does bitch bother me but fu-fu-fu . . . Sheesh, I said the word earlier. Why can't I say it now? That's weird. I can say bitch and feel like death but I can't say fu-fu-explicit-for-fornicating even though I don't care?
There's something wrong with my brain. I'm telling you.
Natsu, there's no one here, knock that off.
Right, mind. I'm alone.
Yes, alone.
Alone.
Without Sora.
Right?
Right.
. . . Sora's gone? Why did I . . . ?
NO! TOO EARLY! DON'T! STOP! Line break, line break, line break, line break . . . oh yeah, I have to draw it first.
Well, that's embarrassing. Oh wait, it's not. No one's reading. My self-esteem needs to take a pill.
Or maybe I should eat some fire. What should I burn? This paper? Ugh, but then I would have to start over again . . . even if all this is kind of craptastic. I'm never going to admit it, aren't I?
Okay. Put on the big boy pants, Natsu. Take in a deep breath . . . it's just you and Sora. The guy you can say anything to. The guy who will never betray you. Right? Right.
Sora, um, you're not here. That's a problem. You see, when you were around . . . I didn't have to pretend. Pretending is fun, don't get me wrong, I just . . . you made everything so easy.
You saw dead people. I can't compare to that. Then there was your collection of frogs. Um, that was really neat. Then you gave me this really cool necklace. It's a girly one, you know? Complete with a heart lock and stuff. You said you never took it off. Ever. Like, it stayed on you for ten years. That makes this metal full of your DNA and shit . . . it's a DNA necklace.
Yeah, I don't take it off either. Um, I'm sure you would smile if I told you that. Then I'd slap you on the back of the head cause you'd make that squealing sound that would turn into this obnoxious laughter that no one likes.
Except me. 'Cause my laugh is worse.
Hah . . . I . . . fuck it, you better not make me cry! Stop it! I wasn't finished! Aaaaaaaaarrrrrggggghhhhhh, YOU SUCK!
I'm using a pen again. For some reason the paper got wet. This pen is water proof.
. . . you didn't need to know that.
So, Sora, I need to ask. Why did you choose me? Why me? Why did you dump your shit on me? Why do I have your freaking necklace that smells like ten-year-old you?!
Ten . . . smh, you're a creepy-fourteen-year-old. Talking about death and shit. That's wrong. Wait, no. It's not wrong. No, it's just . . . I don't know what to say. I'm being a hypocrite. I'm hypocritical. Uuuuuhhhh . . . Redo.
These lines are helping me think.
Yeah, but, I shouldn't be wearing this. It's supposed to go around your neck. That jacket you gave me? That belongs to you. It didn't matter that I was naked that night, okay? Whether or not I was conscious, you should have let me suffer through the rain like that. I deserved to curl into the gutter like that. There was no need for you to place that filthy jacket on me. ME! And it also smells like you!
Your stench is ridiculous! What are you eating? What . . . what were you eating?
Were . . . eating . . . were . . .
Past tense. I hate it. Past tense can die. Seriously. It can go in a ditch and die. Then it can regenerate, then die again. Just keep dying, and dying, and dying . . . WHY WON'T IT DIE?!
Oh.
Huh.
I see.
Urgh.
Sora . . . Sora, I'm sorry. I know you hate using Caps lock.
Okay, I think I'm safe now. Clean sheet of paper. Shit will go down . . . in my mind, where it should stay.
Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Ok-what am I writing? I wasn't even paying attention and my hand just . . . what is wrong with my fingers? I should cut the little suckers off. I don't need fingers.
Heh, that would piss you off. Remember when I said you shook my hand after you were freaking me out earlier? Remember, Sora? You were missing a few fingers. I mean, I thought I didn't do anything but you always said that I made some type of psycho face. Like, the face of a killer who couldn't kill because pity plus adorable equals survival instinct.
When someone looks at you . . . when people looked at you for the first time they became invincible. That's part of the reason I don't like you. I looked at you and I felt like a god. I mean, I already knew I was a god, but when I looked at you I FELT like god. I had all the power in the world and anyone who challenged me (a.k.a. tried to beat you up) was instantly added to my "zap and kill" list.
Verbal abuse? Zap!
Dirty look? Zap!
Profanity directed at my power source/cause of transformation? Zap!
Suspicious looking person approaches said source of power? Zap!
Zap you, zap you, zap effin you too, "Dad"!
You owe me, Sora.
And . . . I forgot what I was going to say. My face is unhappy right now. Yes, my face. It's an upside down smiley face. Reminds me of that dumb shirt you always wore. I told you to take it off. I told you it kills . . . and not in a good way. It attracts killers.
I like to interchange "bully" with "killer". I also like to interchange "bullying" with "killing". Does it matter which one? Sora, you're in the "other" dimension. Do you see the difference?
"Dad" didn't like our friendship. He's kind of evil. I don't understand him. I understand him perfectly.
Take your pick, our friendship would still tank regardless.
People staring. We soaked it up . . . well, I soaked it up. You . . . tried to be a force field. Sora . . . I'm going to say this in the clearest, easiest, no-brainer, dullest, and possibly the most coherent way if there ever was a way of saying things such as this . . . in reference to you know what . . . in concerns to that.
This guy. But not that guy. Who looks like this guy. I feel like I'm quoting some guy.
. . . you know there's something wrong with my brain, right?
Okay. Your force field sucks. There, I said it. I told you countless times to be a sponge. I told you. Sponge is power. You take the kills, you take them all, and then you eat it in their face and upchuck it on their shoes. Then you lick your thumb slowly and smear the upchuck on their face. Then you walk away.
You don't kill them back . . . ergh, bully them back . . . retaliate? You don't retaliate in a war against fools. You upchuck on them. Retaliating is saved for the professionals. Not fools.
We're the rulers of fools. Sure, I may have delved into the . . . um, killing in the past. You know, I was about to kill you too. But then . . . you upchucked on me. Then I liked you, I turned away from the dark side, became a god, and then we formed the sacred bond of sacredness. Complete with the thumb pricking and the gross stuff. The red, all that dripping red . . . we could have DIED.
Yeah, you saw that right. A capitalized word. Why? Cause you didn't care. You broke the code. I told you force fields don't work, but then you decided to betray me and make it harder. You kept trying to be a sucky force field. You kept trying to be a sucky force field. You. Were. A. Sucky. Force. Field.
Sora . . . when you put up a force field you've already lost. Sponges win, not force fields. That was my first lesson to you.
We're teachers. We're students. Our best teachers were us and us alone. You showed me that sponges are strong alone. Soaking in life (cause killing is a part of life) is better than force fields. And, two kills don't make a right. You taught me that too.
You see, but I missed something. I fucking missed something. I fucking fuck fucked up and missed something. Ugh, it feels wrong to say that now too.
I don't curse.
See? If I think it's true, then it's true. Just like with the sponge.
Anyway, what I missed . . . what you hid was that loners don't follow rules. Yes, I know loners don't like rules but I didn't know you were a loner. I didn't know we were a rare thing. I didn't know two guys could be diamonds. That sounds painful. I'd hate to be a diamond.
That's just me, personally. I don't want to be an unyielding rock. Unyielding rocks can get bashed against the wall more than the yielding rocks. Why do I have to be the diamond, huh? Why? Why can't you be the diamond? It suits you, with those eyes and all . . . and that pathetic shirt . . . I hate the fact that I'm wearing that shirt. I shouldn't have taken it. I should have never taken any gifts from you.
Hehn . . . Okay, line break.
I need a river.
I need someone to make a river. There should be some god out there that can carve me a river. Except, it wouldn't be a normal river.
First off, it wouldn't reflect. That's force field bullshit. Or wait, do I have it backwards? Reflect? Deflect? Screw it, just don't reflect . . . or deflect.
So, a river. I want to look into that river and see the "other". I want to see all those people I killed. I want a place where two dimensions can merge, a place where I can see Sora's face again. Then, I'll try to punch him. It will fail, he'll laugh, I'll laugh and my eyes may try to produce something that could join the river. Don't make me say it out loud, but there will be something of me joining that river.
This river needs a shape. Do a smiley face for me, will you? Wait, who am I talking to?
Yeah, as for the place just do it over there yonder . . . where the light touches that part of the forest. Carve it for me. I'll reach out and skim the water . . . and then I can stop pretending. Just a little bit. I'll stop pretending and stare at the means of transportation for Sora's trip into "other".
I won't join him. That's against the rules. My rules. But . . . I need to reach that river.
Okay? We good?
I think we're good.
Sincerely,
Natsu Dragneel (drag plus kneel . . . I've never liked my last name).
END~End~END
Author's Note: Well, wasn't that interesting?
I get that this is somewhat OOC. Heh, it was really hard to write Natsu at first but then . . . eventually this all just slipped out. I'm not entirely sure what happened, but I liked it.
Kudos to xxIAmTheSkyxx for giving me a challenge that caused me to be abstract. You inspire, buddy. (EDIT: For those of you wondering, the challenge was to have Natsu and Sora in a story together . . . with one of them dying/dead)
And as for the rest of you, thank you for reading!
Justice T.