This came to me while listening to aerosmiths's 'Don't wanna miss a thing'
IT would have been a song fic, but thought the music worked, the lyrics did
not. I7m not going to explain it- I want to see how many can even get
close. So, tell me what you thought, I'll tell you how close you got.
Flashes of the past came to mind as the darkness once again overwhelmed him. Figments of his own twisted imagination tightly in reality that would you of only glimpsed, you may believe it.
But no. Such thoughts were conjured in desperation – as the child's sanity trickled away. Like sands of time.
They only slept. Surely they did. 'Twas not their blood that stained his being – that dripped down his face like sweat. Never could it be the blood of his own.
Distantly, as if a dream – for perhaps it was – he heard his sister call his name. After all, his mangled family lay before him – why should it be his sister was spared?
Blank eyes turned to the door, as it began to slide open. The moment before his dear sister can to view, his world plunged again into darkness. He knew he'd awoke- for his darkest dreams held more light than the world held in his awaken phase.
No longer did the blood cling to him, no longer did it stain his hair – but he still felt the crusting over death remaining.
His fever burned and air became hard to get. A vice of his own making tightened as he fought with reality. What had they told him? What had they said as they locked him away? It was all in his head?
For days he remained locked in the dark of his own room. They didn't want him to get hurt... more like they didn't want him to hurt them.
The voices continued from downstairs, and thought their words were lost to him, they angered him greatly. 'Twas them who locked him away. The were the ones to cage him.
In pain, he grabbed his head, as the flashes began again. No longer did his thoughts follow calm and rational patterns, instead they turned to being hateful, vengeful, and full of bloodlust. His mind refused to obey him, furthering his belief he was going crazy.
The door. Always with the sliding door. The slight scraping of wood on wood. It took all of him to not scream.
Not that it mattered. If he were to try, all that would happen was silence. He'd tried talking.... tried screaming... tried crying...
He found his hands pulled from his face. Found them pulled calmly away and enfolded then in someone else's.
He struggled. The gesture seemed kind, but that was what he feared. They would fake peace, and then hurt him again.
Another piece of sanity crumpled away.
"Open your mouth."
The voice was harsher than the grip, and he found himself obeying. And he found a reward. Warm liquid was spooned into him mouth.
Thought the action was simple, and would be lost on another, it did something to him. The warm, simple broth, being hand feed to him. Like a mother to child. A simple act of humanity.
Again and again, the calming act continued, and his mind cleared.
And though his dark prison, he knew who his caretaker was. A friendly soul, hidden behind a pain like his own. But this kindness was unbefitting of him.
A named formed, but only growls escaped from his lips. He struggled to get his mouth to form words, but nothing human escaped his lips. Emotion peaked then, and mental exhaustion caused him to slump forward. He wanted to cry. He wanted to scream, but he found all of it trapped inside.
Hands rested on his face, soft words coming to him again. "Don't you go turning into me..." And then something happened. A rustle, and a pressure let off of his face. And then light, as something fell to his lap.
In his hands rested white bandages. He ran circles in his mind, unable to comprehend this. Confusion, as with his anger before, caused his thought to grow hazy, and he started to get lost.
"Oi! Don't go doing that again! You can loose it on me! It don't look good when one of me team turns wolf with no good reason. When Choco goes cat, it's all dandy, but you-"
The room twisted in his unused sight, and again, the black eyes lost touch with reality.
Blood - there always was- tinged with tears. The corpse lay battered on the rocks, cold and long since dead. Laughter rung hollowly in the air, and he sniffed the abandoned dead – as if to confirm the identity.
Only, the dead reached for him. He shrank away, and the hand fell limp with a whimper. This dead one cried out for pity and mercy – and it drove him closer again.
No hands to hold the child, he pressed his face into the outstretched hand.
As any lost child knows, the befriendment of a stray can be the thing preventing panic. It can be the thing that keeps the peace of mind peaceful.
Just then, a light shone on the boy's mind. He reached out, clutching his lifeline.
One stray to the other.
"Baka" The lifeline whispered back, running figures thought he wild hair. The manner was innocent, like petting a dog. Simple, brushing back again and again.
Tears flowed as he was torn by the two sides of his own soul. He openly cryied, in face of his helplessness.
"Be human again. Be human – so you can continue to teach me how."
End
Like I said, I'm not explaining it yet, so you tell me how you interpreted it, and I'll tell you how close you where.
Flashes of the past came to mind as the darkness once again overwhelmed him. Figments of his own twisted imagination tightly in reality that would you of only glimpsed, you may believe it.
But no. Such thoughts were conjured in desperation – as the child's sanity trickled away. Like sands of time.
They only slept. Surely they did. 'Twas not their blood that stained his being – that dripped down his face like sweat. Never could it be the blood of his own.
Distantly, as if a dream – for perhaps it was – he heard his sister call his name. After all, his mangled family lay before him – why should it be his sister was spared?
Blank eyes turned to the door, as it began to slide open. The moment before his dear sister can to view, his world plunged again into darkness. He knew he'd awoke- for his darkest dreams held more light than the world held in his awaken phase.
No longer did the blood cling to him, no longer did it stain his hair – but he still felt the crusting over death remaining.
His fever burned and air became hard to get. A vice of his own making tightened as he fought with reality. What had they told him? What had they said as they locked him away? It was all in his head?
For days he remained locked in the dark of his own room. They didn't want him to get hurt... more like they didn't want him to hurt them.
The voices continued from downstairs, and thought their words were lost to him, they angered him greatly. 'Twas them who locked him away. The were the ones to cage him.
In pain, he grabbed his head, as the flashes began again. No longer did his thoughts follow calm and rational patterns, instead they turned to being hateful, vengeful, and full of bloodlust. His mind refused to obey him, furthering his belief he was going crazy.
The door. Always with the sliding door. The slight scraping of wood on wood. It took all of him to not scream.
Not that it mattered. If he were to try, all that would happen was silence. He'd tried talking.... tried screaming... tried crying...
He found his hands pulled from his face. Found them pulled calmly away and enfolded then in someone else's.
He struggled. The gesture seemed kind, but that was what he feared. They would fake peace, and then hurt him again.
Another piece of sanity crumpled away.
"Open your mouth."
The voice was harsher than the grip, and he found himself obeying. And he found a reward. Warm liquid was spooned into him mouth.
Thought the action was simple, and would be lost on another, it did something to him. The warm, simple broth, being hand feed to him. Like a mother to child. A simple act of humanity.
Again and again, the calming act continued, and his mind cleared.
And though his dark prison, he knew who his caretaker was. A friendly soul, hidden behind a pain like his own. But this kindness was unbefitting of him.
A named formed, but only growls escaped from his lips. He struggled to get his mouth to form words, but nothing human escaped his lips. Emotion peaked then, and mental exhaustion caused him to slump forward. He wanted to cry. He wanted to scream, but he found all of it trapped inside.
Hands rested on his face, soft words coming to him again. "Don't you go turning into me..." And then something happened. A rustle, and a pressure let off of his face. And then light, as something fell to his lap.
In his hands rested white bandages. He ran circles in his mind, unable to comprehend this. Confusion, as with his anger before, caused his thought to grow hazy, and he started to get lost.
"Oi! Don't go doing that again! You can loose it on me! It don't look good when one of me team turns wolf with no good reason. When Choco goes cat, it's all dandy, but you-"
The room twisted in his unused sight, and again, the black eyes lost touch with reality.
Blood - there always was- tinged with tears. The corpse lay battered on the rocks, cold and long since dead. Laughter rung hollowly in the air, and he sniffed the abandoned dead – as if to confirm the identity.
Only, the dead reached for him. He shrank away, and the hand fell limp with a whimper. This dead one cried out for pity and mercy – and it drove him closer again.
No hands to hold the child, he pressed his face into the outstretched hand.
As any lost child knows, the befriendment of a stray can be the thing preventing panic. It can be the thing that keeps the peace of mind peaceful.
Just then, a light shone on the boy's mind. He reached out, clutching his lifeline.
One stray to the other.
"Baka" The lifeline whispered back, running figures thought he wild hair. The manner was innocent, like petting a dog. Simple, brushing back again and again.
Tears flowed as he was torn by the two sides of his own soul. He openly cryied, in face of his helplessness.
"Be human again. Be human – so you can continue to teach me how."
End
Like I said, I'm not explaining it yet, so you tell me how you interpreted it, and I'll tell you how close you where.