Characters: Orihime
Summary: With all that's happened, there's been no time to mourn what she has lost.
Pairings: None
Warnings/Spoilers: Nothing specific
Timeline: Post- Hueco Mundo arc.
Author's Note: Orihime's mental processes can be disturbing at time, yes?
Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach.
Divide me up and pass all of the pieces to those who once knew me, to those who are trying to know me now. It's all they will ever have of me, I'm afraid, now that all has shattered and fractured beyond anyone's ability to clean up the mess.
I can feel eyes upon me. Oblivious, detached, uncomprehending, scornful, concerned, heartbroken. Different shades of color, refracted stained glass, shattering upon impact and failing to do anything but hover on the edge of my awareness.
Everything that has formed my brittle layers has fallen away, the glass prison that kept me whole and shaped and somewhat sane. What seems as imprisonment to others was my safe haven, the only place where I could hide and still stretch my eyes upwards, yearning for the light of the sun to again fall upon me.
I collapse. I break like brittle glass. Droplets of blood follow my footsteps, wherever I go.
The abyss stands before me. And behind me, there is fire.
As burning death approaches, I take one last glimpse at the light, any light, before I close my eyes, and jump.
Now, there is naught but deep darkness. Swimming through a sea of tears and wishing I had thought to grab any one of the hands that had stretched forward, offering me another way out.
Darkness follows.
I can't see the light.