Author's Notes: Hehe. It's done. MY NOODLE ONE IS DONE! I win, I win, I FUCKING WIN! I have to say; I am absolutely in love with this one. It is my favourite by far and not a single comment from anyone can make me think any differently. I could marry this one if I hadn't written it myself. I just hope one thing; Did I get Noodle's personality right? I doubt it but we all know how these things work. Only the creator will really know who their character is. I got as close as I could so read and enjoy.
Disclaimer: I do not own Gorillaz. Damon Albarn and Jamie Hewlett do. I also do not own the El Manana video nor the song DARE. The two men mentioned before also do. Okay lets say this; I own the way the story is written but everything else belongs to Jamie and Damon yeah? That works. Oh, and the mention to Paradise Circus; it is a song by Massive Attack. GO LISTEN TO IT'S AWESOMENESS!
Can't I….
Do you know that single moment when everything you've ever wanted has come true? That single split second of life that suddenly fills your entire being with joy? A single breath out of a million that makes you feel lightheaded enough to fly? One heartbeat out of a million that sends your blood rushing through your veins and flushes your skin? Do you understand what I'm talking about?
I really, truly, with everything I have hope you do. Else my story wouldn't make much sense in the beginning and the end does not make sense without the beginning. Neither the beginning nor the end makes sense without the middle. So please, understand if just for this one moment, so that you may truly be able to delve into my story and soak up the emotions that riddle my words.
My life was not easy at one point; I don't think any life is easy all the time. I know that there will always be those points where the dark penetrates the light and makes seeing a little more difficult. I know that I will sometimes have to struggle to find the ember glowing topaz amongst the dark coal. They are unavoidable but what can you do but persist past them and continue on in hopes of passing through the bramble smelling of dirt and decay to reach the clearing filled with the scent of grass and waterfall.
Before I met them, I guess I can say my life was very difficult. I did not have much of a childhood; the typical kind. The kind of childhood where hands play with toys made of plastic and paint; feet run through soft backyard grass; eyes stare up at blue skies; noses smell fresh baked pastries held by the hands of smiling mothers; ears hear the sounds of laughter and glee of a Christmas passing. No, I did not have that kind of childhood at all; my childhood was the storm before the calm.
I cannot recount my years before the young age of ten; when my child self gave way to pre-teen attitude and wants. I can merely tell you that they were hard and not at all what a child who has had the wonders of civility would want. For me though the training was normal and the roughness of the environment was something I called home and familiar. It would have been odd for me to break through the bramble and the thicket to see a glittering waterfall washing me with rainbow tainted mist.
Holding a gun was as comfortable as holding a guitar in my hands; kicking another child was as easy as hugging them in my arms. Routine was a sundae with all the trimmings and decisions were the spoiled cherry placed on top. Days filled with ninety-percent work were more natural than sleeping in and less food was more filling than more food. Apathetic uncaring was more normal than actual emotions crossing young and cheery faces. Speaking nearly every language and playing every instrument was less work than shaking another human hand.
Of course my ten year old self could have told you none of this; for she was blanked. She was like a journal that had been written in to the brim but the ink was invisible unless under that special blue light. She was like the flat face of a white sheet of paper that had faint pencil marks where things once existed. She was like a jagged stone scrubbed smooth by the tides of time and water. I was nothing more than a young Japanese girl with the ability to shred a guitar to pieces.
If I think back to that time I notice that I remember a lot more than my nineteen year old self should. Adults forget the passing of ages once young and are wiped clean of childish joys that once filled the heart with colour that sprang forth like a sunbeam through thick green trees. I believe it is from the training I received; told never to forget a past experience and learn from it so that if it occurs again reaction can be triggered as if moving a single pebble to start a rockslide.
The first thing I know my younger self remembered was waking up in a small space filled with cracks of light that were the only source of oxygen. I was calm and collected with a Les Paul cradled like a child in my arms; its neck resting across my chest and my hands wrapped around its smooth oiled wood body. There were no sounds but my own breathing and heartbeat and all my thoughts were a bit jumbled from the memory wipe. Of course my blank sheet of paper with just a title mind didn't know that; she knew she was tired and hungry.
I remember looking out through the cracks with an almost childish impassiveness as I tried to figure out exactly where I was; my childish heart fluttering with the fear of unknowing. Curiosity was the forefront of thought as my young eyes tried to examine the outside world with an aggressiveness that was not taught to us. Blood rushed through young veins and spiked adrenaline on my tongue as worry blossomed in my chest and filled my lungs with air. It was almost dizzying trying to comprehend emotions and feelings and reactions my body had not and shouldn't have experienced.
Suddenly I knew that I had stopped moving and I heard a distinct ding above my head and somewhere out of my confinement. My Les Paul was gripped tighter to my chest; a lifeline and best friend known to my body and hands more than my own body was. The cracks of light were dull and fleeting and child instinct told me to be afraid of the dark and desperately escape with the companion held safe to my chest like a treasured friend whom I would die without.
Young eyes blinked as a new light flooded in my box and a voice too rough and ragged for my young ears called out a word I could pick up despite my Japanese wired brain. "Russel! Russel!" The rest had turned into garbled nonsense as quickly as dust blows in the light wind as it passed over the ground.
More nothings until I heard, "Murdoc. Blah, blah, blah. Oh 2D." It had seemed to my ears that names were easily picked up but the English words that flowed from their invisible as air mouths were completely black to me. I heard another voice speak up and I felt an itching to get out of my box and cling to another human being like I did my guitar; a child needs human contact almost as much as they need air. My before ten years old self would have rebelled against such tender actions.
The voices continued; one smoothly low and rhythmic, one raggedly rough and attractive, one delectably sweet and lulling.
When I felt the box begin to be pried open I saw one thing flash through my mind like a lightning bolt during a thunderstorm of dark clouds brightening the dark. My Les Paul was in my hands like a perfect lover and the instantly box split open I was on my feet and playing my instrument with a passion that burned through my flesh with a white hot intensity.
"Noodoru!" I had paused and looked up at the three strangers with a slight confusion at the actions my body had taken before I was even sure that I was supposed to move first. The snake does not strike that which does not strike first; it gives the incentive of attack.
My heart jolted in my chest and instead of adrenaline undiluted joy spiced the taste buds covering my tongue. My skin turned warm with the glee that pulsed in my blood under my skin. My breath turned shallow and dizzying with adoration and awe. My entire being was shattered and put back together but it was glowing from the inside; glowing like the single ember in a cloud of coal.
Those three faces stared down at me with a mixture of emotions my young mind couldn't comprehend and thus I do not remember exactly what they looked like. A guess would be a mixture of awe, confusion, worry and maybe even victory.
My young eyes had taken them each in with detail; absorbing every detail and sucking in every aspect it could with revel.
The first was the colour of dark chocolate that shined in the light like lacquered wood; I wanted to touch him. His eyes were an eerie white that seemed to glow from underneath; I shied away from them. He was tall and wide and I took that as protection. This man was exotic to me and I wanted to be protected by him as his smooth as glass voice.
The second had skin that was olive by either sun or natural pigmentation I didn't know. His eyes were entertaining to me because as a child eyes that were two different colours were very interesting. He was thin and tall only because of the shoes on his feet; he had something about him that was scary yet wasn't. His hair was limp and oily and hung over his eyes in a side sweep that was razor edged enough to have been trimmed with the aid of a ruler. A cigarette hung from his mouth and he was fascinating to me.
The third made my heart flutter oddly in my chest. I didn't know if it was the kind and nurturing smile he gave me, or the large black eyes that I could drown in, or the smell of Butterscotch Angel Delight that seemed to roll off him in waves. I didn't know if it was his blue hair or the tall figure or the way he seemed to scream 'big brother' at me. He was just someone I instantly felt connected to.
Did you see the change that happened in my life? Did you understand; because this is merely the beginning and the rest will be based among this single life changing reaction. A single drop of water can overflow an already filled cup; a single moment can dictate the rest of time.
Time passed and soon I had felt myself become enveloped in warmth so comforting my body caved into it so willingly that I felt the effects of being tired for the first time in ten years. I listened to foreign words fill my ears and basked in each of their separate accents as if they were silk pillows under my head. I heard the world 'Noodle' over and over again and each time I would feel as if they were talking about me; speaking of me. It made me feel more special than anything in the world to have fallen into the presence of the three men.
I remember how those times turned out to be the very best of my life; playing music with them, eating with them, laughing and smiling with them. I learned to love the men that had changed my life and I wanted to see seasons pass and come in their company. I wanted to always have Russel there to teach me and Murdoc there to play music with me and 2D there to hug me.
Growing up with them felt like being a bath of constantly warm and soothing water that laps at your skin and sinks into your bones until you feel perfect all over. Living with them felt like laying a meadow full of soft grass while the sun gently caresses you in its light and warmth. Playing music with them felt like finally getting to the best you can possibly be and knowing that no more can be done. Just being around them made me feel like I was my own personal star.
When weeks turned into months and months into years; I didn't mind the passing of the time. Time didn't pass with them because every moment was etched into my mind so richly it was as if I was living one day and not several.
But there was this itching in the back of my mind that tried to bite at the perfection and ruin the beauty that I lived in. I was in a true 'Paradise Circus' and I wanted the bug bite to heal so that I could stop having to scratch at it. So that when my family finally dispersed for the better good of all of us I went back to the place my heart called to, to find out who I was.
Finding out who you are is like getting several needles all the time in the same place without pause.
Finding out who you are is like being hit with a hammer over and over right after the first blow heals.
Finding out who you are is like drowning right after you have finally been able to surface and breathe.
Finding out who you are is like bursting that bubble that you always knew was there but wanted a lot.
Well; that is what it was like for the young me. I was no longer the precious little Noodle that I had once been. I was no longer the Japanese guitarist that knew only several English words. I was no longer the energetic young child that had been wrapped in a gold summer blanket. I was no longer me; I would never be me again.
Yet I knew I was still me; I was still Noodle. I was still 2D's little love; I was still Russel's baby girl; I was still Murdoc's doll. I was just a different version of that girl; I was a soldier who had learned that love can change even the most hardwired experiences.
So I knew I had to go back, I had to recreate what had been created with my family. I had to go back to warm summer knights wrapped in cool dark blankets dotted with brilliant stars that smelled like cigarettes and butterscotch. My heart yearned for my lost family more than lungs yearned for air or my stomach yearned for food. It felt like I needed them to remain alive because they were all I had known for the better part of three years; it was something that had set into my bones.
When I got back I cannot lie and say I hadn't expected there to be someone else there waiting for me; hoping I was going to return. I'd been excited when I saw Murdoc's Winnebago sitting in the car park but had lost it when I realized it was empty and showed signs of neglect. I checked every room and area of the house for a sign of someone in my family having stayed waiting for me.
There was no one but the half-dead things that shuffled from room to room blindly. It would've been hard for me to get rid of them if I hadn't remembered everything from my past; if I hadn't remembered how to shut my mind down and go into a mode so dangerous even I feared it. That part of me terrified me more than anything else I could possibly imagine; what could be worse than fearing yourself? I couldn't think of anything and knew that the instant my family came back that I would warn them of who I had become and who I had been.
I had decided as quickly as season's change that I would work on a new album for my family and myself. If I knew them I knew they would be back and I knew they would come back loaded with adventures of times passed yet kept for the pure pleasure of the memory.
I didn't have that luxury like they did; I hadn't chosen to remember or forget. I didn't get pleasure from the memories of tracking through mud filled tracks learning to shoot life taking weapons.
While making the album thoughts, feelings and memories flashed through my mind one after the other like a typhoon of happy and sad. I put in everything I thought and felt about my past, my present and my future into the album. I put everything I felt about how the world was becoming and about how I felt being in the band was. My entire thought process went into 'Demon Days' and I didn't regret pouring everything I thought, believed and felt into it.
It had happened in the middle of the night with sounds like very bad dressed in black robbers were prowling through the possessed, haunted dark mansion of Kong Studios. My heart pounded sweet tasting; bitter leaving adrenaline through already burning veins. Single vision lenses covered multi-vision eyes and body moved with the ace of trained dog forced to fight.
For the first time in a long time I felt the feeling of fright jumble into my limbs and cloud my brain with images of black figured bad guys with the silver gleaming knives. I was a soldier but I had learned emotion and emotion is more powerful than anything trained into your body. I knew I could win and I knew not to be scared but the taste lingered on my tongue and the sweat beaded on my skin.
Weapon held in knowing hands ready to hit flesh and bone without mercy. Feet moved in silence even among the squeaks like mice in the floor boards old. Body aligned like a perfect combater waiting for the attack to block and trigger. Mind and insides raced with a fear and determination like hot lava flowing down the side of a mountain. Viscous and lazy and burning to the touch.
The sounds they made with their mouths were the sounds made by losing men who pull the chord one second later than the winner. The sounds they made with their bodies were loud crashes that jumped nerves under skin and caused brains to scream. Their presence made blood rush ice cold through fear heated limbs and create a concoction of temperature that made eyes swim behind focus.
Lights flickered like a dying moths wings and curses filled curse free untainted air; being inhaled by a throat dry with dread. Eyes adjusted and gaze met gaze; one lethal and one completely shocked.
Warrior mode shut down instantly and hands filled with fight went limp and dropped the weapon needed to hurt. Young teenage girl instantly took its place and eyes filled with tears of denial and joy. Heart beating with fear slowed into a heart beating with awe and love unknown to the soldier behind the mask.
He was back.
I can't explain the feelings that flooded me at the moment; I'll compare it to how a star might feel just before it goes super-nova. I felt like a huge star in the last throws of life being filled with heat until I burst and left behind a pretty painting of what I had felt just before. I felt like I could just die and die happy knowing he was back; even if it was just him.
Even if it was just the womanizing, chain-smoking, abusive, satanic and incredibly rude ass bass player known as Murdoc Niccals; King of Gorillaz.
"Noodle… Doll?"
Hearing him say my name in the voice that I had always found so enticing rang in my ears and reverberated in my head like the sweetest of melodies. Seeing him stare at me with a mixture of awe and confusion in his mismatched eyes was like being watched by the sweetest of angels. The scent of tobacco, leather and something else impossible to name was like fresh backed apple pie. Everything about him coming back was wonderful and completely and utterly heart breaking; in a glorious way.
After the initial shock however and a hug later, (a grumbling miserable hug but a hug nonetheless), I let him listen to the demos I'd created for our newest album; our newest voice to the world beyond that of which we were in. I wanted him to feel what I was feeling, think what I was thinking, see what I was seeing and believe what I was believing.
Murdoc for me had always been somewhat of a teacher when it came to music; I looked up to him and admired him and was awed by him. I envied his passion for music and the band and knew that through the façade of only wanting the fame and rock star life he cared for the band and us more than anything he could get with it. I wanted to be like him, wanted to think like him; I wanted to have Murdoc's musical passion and fire.
He was the sun to my planet. He was the water to my flower. He was the ebb to my flow. The yin to my yang. When it came to music he was on a pedestal I had yet to reach; he was on a wavelength I had yet to hear. Murdoc Niccals was the greatest musician I'd ever met and I wanted to have what he owned in the music area of my life.
It was a magical moment when he said my demos were good; better than the first CD. It made me soar when he said he didn't see any way he could improve it; when he didn't see any way to make it more fantastic than it already was. He was seeing and feeling and thinking and believing what I had wanted him to. I was getting closer to him.
We were alone for a while and it was actually something that opened my eyes to Murdoc Niccals. I'd always been awed by him and found him interesting. I'd always watched him and observed him. However, I'd never learned anything about him.
I learned things about him I doubt even Stuart knows; I could be wrong though. I learned that while Stu was in coma Murdoc often told him things no one should ever know about a person. I believe he could remember and just know not to say anything or he has truly forgotten. To you though; I will not repeat what I have learned for it feels so personal and private that even I feel I must forget it.
That time was something I'll cherish but I cannot say I was displeased when it was broken by the appearance of another family member. I cannot say I was upset when my alone time with my musical idol ended nor can I say I was angered. I was in fact ecstatic to the point of breakdown.
When I saw that shock of familiar azure blue hair that was six feet and three inches off the floor I nearly collapsed to the floor. When I saw those black, endless smoky eyes I nearly melted into a puddle. When I felt his gaze fall on me I nearly cried just for the sake of having him look at me. When I heard my name I could have lost all feeling.
"Noodle-Luv?"
Stuart was literally the one thing that kept me sane every time the insanity would become too much. He was the water that douses the flame and the calm before the storm; he prevented the storm from coming at all. He was the one I went to for hugs and to cry and to tell secrets to. He was the one who had been my lifeline when I was drowning in feelings I couldn't grasp onto.
The warmth that enveloped me when I clung onto him was like no other; it was the warmth only a family member could fill you with. It was the warmth of the sun beaming on your skin at just the right time of day when it's not too hot or cold. It was the warmth of angels and home and love and everything that was right about the world.
He smelled like he always did and it was that intoxicating aroma of Angel Butterscotch Delight that caused me to forget exactly how long I'd been holding him. Stu-Pot didn't seem to mind and it made me happy to see nothing but pure joy, relief and happiness swirling in his eyes. The smile on his face betrayed the fact that he was soaking wet and probably cold.
I forgot who I was around Stuart; forgot who I could be, who I wanted to be. He made everything blur at the lines and nothing made sense but everything made sense. Up was down and down was up; it was wrong and it was right. Yin was yang and yang was yin; in themselves for themselves unable to exist alone. I couldn't exist around Stuart yet I couldn't not exist. He was my brother and my best friend and my 'kindred spirit?' all at the same time.
The two of them started off fine; it made my heart soar to see that Murdoc could manage speaking to Stuart as if he was a human being. I knew Murdoc cared for him and actually needed him; they needed each other more than they needed me or Russel. I could see that and analyze that and come to that conclusion because I knew more about Murdoc and already knew so much about Stuart.
Murdoc and I plus Stuart made three of four happy people. Things became more normal over time and I felt comfortable with the two of them. They made me feel safe and loved and part of something bigger and greater than myself. My demos were becoming songs; though I knew Murdoc planned to take credit; and my vision was becoming the reality I wished to see.
It was hard for them to accept that I spoke and understood their language suddenly and I could see it. They tried hard to not say certain things and often Murdoc would choke off in the middle of a sentence; Stuart would purposely extend explanations if they were inappropriate and made references instead of saying it outright. It frustrated me for long enough and one day I finally cracked and explained to them that I knew all about drugs, alcohol and sex. I could tell that floored them more than my English did but I had to let them know that we were all on the same level.
During those moments time became fuzzy and it was a shock when Russel Hobbs hobbled through the door.
My first instinct when I saw him was to run over to him and hug him and comfort him like I knew I would have if I were who I was before. Yet with my new knowledge I knew that nothing I could do would make him better; he was completely broken from the inside out; as if everything that had made him happy had been sucked from his world.
Seeing Russel like that was making me question if he had always been the way I saw him. If he had always been the jazzy father figure I created out of him. If he had always been smooth and calm and complete even when things got hectic and completely out of control. If he had always been the one who was able to handle a hurricane with a straight face. If he had always been my teacher, my friend and my father.
My next instinct was to throw away all negative thoughts about him and completely accept that he had been that person yet he wasn't that person then. I had to become logical and think through what could have happened to make my Russel that Russel.
I didn't ask; no one asked. I knew that we didn't want to touch a thin wire and snap it beneath our fingers and allow him to dive into complete insanity. I watched him closely worrying about him like I knew he would worry about me. I didn't speak to him or touch him; I just observed to make sure he didn't fall further into his own personal hell.
No one questioned why he no longer played his drums, why he no longer made his animal hybrids; why he no longer did anything. Even Murdoc who enjoyed pushing buttons and making people feel as horrible as he did said nothing to him.
My heart cried out for Russel's solace and I lay in bed awake night after night worrying and hurting and hoping that he would get better. I needed that solid rock there who held the house of cards together; I didn't want it to fall apart. If there was one thing I needed in the world more than anything else it was this family. It was Murdoc and Stuart and Russel and me making music and living and laughing and touring and doing everything together.
I was a selfish child like the one dog in the pack who won't share his food. I was the one cloud who forced the other clouds to stay together and be happy. I was the one person who depended on others for her health and safety when they had worry about themselves. Children are selfish and I was a child; a young teenager who wanted to keep the mind of a child.
When he began hitting his drums again it seemed the whole of Kong Studios was pulsing with his beats. They vibrated through the floor into my feet and up into my body where they sad and pulsed and filled me with the strength of beats. I ran to him and nearly pounced on him but all I did was stand and stare and smile when he said; "Hi Baby-Girl."
That was when the sun finally burst through grey clouds dulling light beam rays filled with golden love heat. That was when bath water turned lukewarm reheated and caressed with feather light touches of soothing chills. That was when water fell down falls and sent rainbow coloured mist splashing onto flushed with thrill cheeks.
That was when my family became whole.
It was like life was before only better and brighter and lovelier. There was no language barrier, no struggling, no frustration. I was completely and permanently part of the family that I had been meant to join since my birth from a family I would never meet and never cared to meet. I already had the family I could have always wanted.
I had a father in Russel, a brother in Stuart and an estranged but still loved crazy uncle in Murdoc. I had no mother or sister but I didn't need one when I had them. Russel let me grow up with my femininity; Stuart let me grow up with the love of a sibling; Murdoc let me grow up warned of the dark side of the world. I didn't need a mother or a sister because I was getting everything I needed from the three men in my life.
One thing I can say was that interviews were no longer frustrating and irritating. I could speak freely like river water running downstream. I could listen and laugh and add onto what everyone else said without the need of a translator. My words came undiluted from my own mouth and were entirely my own; it filled me with independence.
I never told them the whole story about my past; merely that I was a trained soldier and the only one who lived. I told them about the phrases I kept close to my heart at all times. I told them I'd kill them all if they dared to try and get them; Murdoc especially.
However; it came the dreadful day when I decided I need to leave my family for my own good. I needed something they weren't giving me. It tore at my heart and ripped it into pieces that couldn't be put back together by anything that wasn't them. No one will ever know why I left and I will never reveal that to anyone but myself; ever.
I spoke to Murdoc about it and too my surprise he had agreed as easily as snow melts in the sun. "You need time to yourself doll. Can' be spendin' all yer time wit men can ya? No no. Yew need the get yer young little arse ou' of here," he had said with a nod of his head and a swig of rum. He didn't ask me why I wanted to leave; he just asked how and when.
My first answer was going to be if I could just sneak out in the middle of the night and if he could give me a ride to the airport. My second was going to be that I could just leave after saying good bye to everyone. My third was going to be that I would just leave when everyone else was out and take a taxi. Murdoc's suggestion was my fourth and final answer; the hardest and the worst.
I would have to fake my own death in exchange for a real death.
It haunted me for the days that lead up to it. I was constantly in a state of blood spiked adrenaline and always prepared for someone to jump out and attack me. I was constantly thinking about what Russel and Stuart would do if they saw what was about to happen. I was always constantly worried about if I would make it myself. I'd become the wreck I'd never thought I'd become with the three of them around.
That faithful day came and I knew I just had to tell myself that it was easy.
Easy like floating on warm salt water.
Easy like breathing in waterfall fresh air.
Easy like hugging someone loved dearly.
Easy like something crushing wasn't happening.
Merely sitting on the island was enough to send my heart racing and pulsing amped up blood down veins that were ice cold. My head swam as if with vertigo and I wanted nothing more than to quit right then; it couldn't be worth it if I felt so horrible. If I felt like I was killing more people than myself why should I continue?
Then I remembered Murdoc's words and I knew I had to do it. For myself if not for everyone else. I had to think selfishly sometimes; I had to think about what would be good and healthy for me. Even though it was destroying me to leave them I knew it would heal me to get away. Maybe for a week or a month or a year; I did need something that they weren't giving me. I was selfish with keeping us together; I was selfish when I was tearing me apart.
We hadn't planned out at all what song would go along with my floating windmill single video. DARE had been a non-planned video on my part and they had been included; this one was to be just me. It was to show the freedom I had even though I was tied to the band. I was free but I was caged all the same.
When the island started to lift I could feel fear spiked blood rush red with oxygen through my veins. I was terrified, alone, grateful, surrounded and confused for a split moment until the serenity hit me. It was like an egg had been cracked on my head and the warmth was dripping down across my skin and my eyes shut almost instantly.
The calmness, freedom and childishness that surrounded and penetrated the island was impossible to ignore. It seeped into the bones and lulled the nerves into a state of almost pure ignorance. Reality ceased to exist in itself and of itself; there was nothing real anymore. It was like living in Neverland for just a split moment when the mind can just shut down and imagine.
My eyes opened and for the instant I didn't exist as the scared fifteen year old about to get shot from the sky; but the still young teen girl with an imagine fit for a child. There was the lulling rotations of the windmill, the light breeze blowing across the expanse of grass and the weightlessness of gravity somewhat giving in. There were goose bumps on my skin; chilling but comfortable.
It was a world within a world; a place within a place; a peace within a hell. So even when I saw the helicopters planned to shoot they were just there, just specks in the sky wondering what my little island was doing floating in the sky.
I stood merely knowing that I was to run at some point; for some reason. It was all melancholy in me but my body was already reacting to the small thought in the back of my mind; there was need for action.
Time froze for an instant and then a single warning shot blasted out of the sky and hit the ground not far from my feet. A ripple ran across my skin and the peace was shattered into a billion little pieces revealing the image beneath. I was official being assassinated while some guy Murdoc hated was locked in my peaceful windmill. The game was starting and I really was going through with it; so I turned and ran.
There was nothing running through my mind but the obvious thoughts of what a trained shoulder would think; a logical way to get out of the situation. Two helicopters, four guns, nearly unlimited ammo, wide open space, one windmill and no way down. So I ran into my windmill and curled there, panting, breathing, begging for air. There was nothing more I could do as my windmill fell to collapse around me.
My heart was crying out for my family, my mind was calling out for myself and my body was shouting out for action. It was horrible being at war with myself and knowing already which side won. I couldn't go back after this; they wouldn't let me. I wouldn't let me.
And as I crawled to survey heart breaking, soul crushing and child murdering damage I knew I would already be seen as dead. There was nothing but fire and rubble where once a meadow and a windmill stood peacefully. Tears pricked my eyes but I couldn't cry for the loss because I had agreed to it; agreed to my faked death and to the destruction of freedom.
The rest happened mechanically and rigidly. Parachute, wait for the order, jump and survive. Most importantly I had to make sure no one knew I had jumped off; no one but Murdoc was to know that I would have lived.
After that nothing happened; nothing that I will recount anyway. I won't mention what has passed me by for the last five years nor will I try to. I have chosen to forget and ignore those days and continue on with life and my goal; get back to my family.
So as I type this up on a laptop in room thirteen on this large cruise ship I beg you to remember. Remember that one breath that made you dizzy. Remember that one heartbeat that seared your blood. Remember that one second that changes your entire life. Just, remember it.
I can hear shooting outside my window and an alarm has just gone off throughout the ship. I believe we may be under attack so I must leave you; knowing I am indeed alive. Just let me mention one more thing to you, from the depth of my blood and regret stained soul.
I don't deserve to go back to Stuart whose heart I probably have torn to shreds. I don't deserve to go back to Russel whose protection I shunned. I don't deserve to go back to Murdoc whose music makes me pant. No, I don't deserve it because I threw them all away for my own selfish gain.
Can I ask you something?
Can't I… be greedy once in a while?
So; did you all enjoy these 6,936 words of my creation? (Yes, this is twice as long as I had planned to make it. I wanted only about 3,000 at the most. More like the length of the 2D and Murdoc ones than the Russel one.)
I did double it because I'm not writing an Android Noodle one and I know that it's sad. *SniffleSniffle* But suck it up because you got more than you were supposed to.
I think I might write a story. (And no; there will be no beyond the norm pairings. I'm sorry.)
Well... It's done.
(Oh, I'm accepting ideas and plots for maybe some one shots so if you would like me to rite up something feel free to message me. ^ ^)
Anah~