The vicious cold against her skin was a terrible kind of comfort. The dreamworld was calling to her, and she followed the sounds, to the very core of her inner mind, where the leftover thoughts, and driving forces reigned supreme. Her rational thought would do her no good here, even if she could summon up the strength to use it. That fact was strange in its meaning to her, and she wrapped it around herself, to keep her arms warm against the freezing temperatures.
It was her own insanity that drove her to this point, she knew. It was her own fault she was in this freezing hell, trapped for God knows how long. But it would be so delicious if she could just blame it on him. She savored the taste of that thought on her mind. His fault. She tried it aloud, and felt almost delighted to know that it felt the same rolling off of her tongue as it did tumbling through her thoughts.
His fault.
She was lying to herself, and she didn't care anymore. But, then again, hadn't she always been a liar?
Back when was a problem child trying to be a movie star? Back when she didn't know Daddy and his drinks don't like to be interrupted? When she'd ran away from those sugar coated dreams and found herself in a world she didn't understand? How long had she been lying to herself, and to the world?
She gave a disgusted snort as she watched scenes play out in front of her. Her first time in this cold place, she'd wished more than anything she could escape the memories, and get rid of the past. To go somewhere where it couldn't follow her.
And she walked through the mist and found herself way outside of Tokyo.
She woke up in a heat so unlike the cold she'd been in before. She awoke in a totally different dimension, and she'd never looked back.
Until now, where she stood watching her past, and she felt no desire to return. She wasn't happy here. Far from it. She was lonely, and sad, and frustrated.
But that was more than she could speak for in her old life, and she had more than she had before.
She had a bright yellow spark of hope, that made her believe that maybe things would be okay, and maybe she'd get that happiness she'd read about in books, while other children were playing outside in the sun. That kept her going, more than anything.
But that thought almost made it impossible to blame him for her current situation. Yeah, almost. But then she felt the harsh window blow memories back into her, and she cursed his name again.
He made her feel those things she'd locked up in this deep part of her mind. He brought back the part of her that was dead-that she killed. It was his fault, that she had to return here, to remember just how things felt.
The wind brushed past her again, and it reminded her of the touches she'd dreamed of at fifteen, and had tired of by seventeen. Sometimes, at random moments, she'd feel someone brush her hair aside, or whisper something in her ear, and she'd curse it to her memories. The memories that should have been long forgotten, but insisted on staying close to her all the time.
And the things that they told her.
A shiver ran down her back, but not from the cold. The memories would speak to her sometimes about touches and kisses and dreams, and she'd try so hard to push it back.
But, to her dismay, she never could really let it go. She gave a sigh, and summoned every inch of her strength on going back to her illusionary home. She'd remember things later.
______
"We lost her again doctor!" one of the boys shouted to the woman in the hall, who came running at the news.
"She was showing some signs of recovering Dr. Langhrem, but she just relapsed."
The small group gathered in and outside the room groaned, and looked to their beloved Meryl, wondering why the Lord chose to keep her from them. They surely had no idea that it was of her own misguided accord.
Maybe it was better that way.
A/N: Whoosh. I wanted to write something different, and that's what came out. :o I suppose you can either assume Meryl's made up that world, she's dreaming it, she's actually there in spirit...think what you will, but please review. :D
It wasn't until near the end when I realized how well Away from Me and Wash it All Away fits this. X.x It wasn't intentional, I swear. Also, if you don't get it, the touches and whispers she 'imagines' are people touching and talking to her physical body. Thought I should bring that up.
Well, there went my first Trigun fic. ._. Sheesh, it scared me. I don't understand it. Anyone wanna tell me what happened?
