Chasing Rainbows
Yuffie stumbled on the sidewalk, one hand along the brick of the building to her right. The world swam before her eyes. There was not much time left for her, and she knew that being out there was not good for her on many levels. She should be home in bed, just lying there and waiting for the moment to come. When she would die from this damned illness.
Hands roamed up her spine, playing along her flesh. He rammed himself up her, and it did not hurt much, to her surprise. Not that it should hurt much, she was by far not a virgin, but this was particularly violent. He slammed into her again and again, tightening his grip on her back, twisting flesh beneath his fingers.
That was right. She had been numb. She never did find what she wanted, and she knew that she never would now. How could she have the one thing she really wanted when he did not want her? He made it perfectly clear the last time she saw him, over a month ago now. His words still echoed back in her mind, "Get away from me. You know nothing of love. Stupid kid."
His words had peirced straight to her heart. She had nothing to live for, and wound up with some guy in a back room of some club she could no longer remember the name of.
As soon as he came, his back bowed. "Yeah, yeah," he kept saying to her, spitting it into her ear. She was not thinking about anything except how quickly she could get out of there. As she was starting to sit up, he grabbed her arm and brought her down, face to face with him. He looked right into her eyes, and she was terrified. "Welcome to the club," he snarled.
The next day she went to get tested. Of course she had a very advanced case of HIV. The guy who gave it to her was gone, but it most likely was a very advanced case. In only a few short weeks it bloomed into full-on AIDS. The doctors did not give her long at all. There were so many ailments that floated around this hell-hole of a city, so it was only a matter of weeks, they told her.
So now she was walking, feeling that possibly the end was near. Her legs wanted to stop, to just go back to her bed and wait it out, but she knew that she could not do anything of the sort. She had to see him one last time, she had to know for sure.
Vincent.
He had been so cold to her, but she loved him. Nothing can change real love, right? Nothing! Not even a few harsh words. Everyone has their weak moments. Maybe he had just been trying to protect her by turning her away. She knew that he had a horrible past, but so did she. His might be longer, but they could share each other's pain.
A wind tore down the sidewalk. Her hand came off the wall to wrap her ratty jacket closer to her neck, and lost balance. Down she went, hitting the ground hard. With the impact, her breath shot out of her body and a small line of blood dribbled from the corner of her mouth. The world dimmed around her, and she thought for a moment that it was all going to end before she could do anything to stop it, before she could talk to Vincent one last time. That was all she wanted.
She knew she was dying, and that the next breath may very well be her last, but she was determined to talk to him one last time. Because she needed it. Even the great Vincent could not deny a dying girl her last wish, could he?
No one was around on the street to help her up, and she was too weak to move. Weak, WEAK! That was all that she had been reduced to! Her, Yuffie, who had once stolen the Materia of the group that saved the planet, was dying because of a common cold. Ironic. Someone robbed her of the one thing she could never steal back: her life.
The world dimmed a little more, and she heard footsteps slapping over the pavement. She saw a pair of black boots come into the narrow alley of vision she had left. Hands scooped under her arms and pulled her to a standing position.
This was how she was going to die. Unknown, unloved, on a dirty street, in the arms of someone who just wanted to help her. This was not how it was supposed to happen, but maybe it was just as well. No one knew her anymore.
A hand cupped her chin and brought her face to meet sad, lonely dark eyes. "I am not your savior," a voice said. "But I love you."
She saw him one last time, a fleeting second. This was it. Her life was fading, but she managed to say "I love you too" back to him, and slumped in his arms.
Yuffie stumbled on the sidewalk, one hand along the brick of the building to her right. The world swam before her eyes. There was not much time left for her, and she knew that being out there was not good for her on many levels. She should be home in bed, just lying there and waiting for the moment to come. When she would die from this damned illness.
Hands roamed up her spine, playing along her flesh. He rammed himself up her, and it did not hurt much, to her surprise. Not that it should hurt much, she was by far not a virgin, but this was particularly violent. He slammed into her again and again, tightening his grip on her back, twisting flesh beneath his fingers.
That was right. She had been numb. She never did find what she wanted, and she knew that she never would now. How could she have the one thing she really wanted when he did not want her? He made it perfectly clear the last time she saw him, over a month ago now. His words still echoed back in her mind, "Get away from me. You know nothing of love. Stupid kid."
His words had peirced straight to her heart. She had nothing to live for, and wound up with some guy in a back room of some club she could no longer remember the name of.
As soon as he came, his back bowed. "Yeah, yeah," he kept saying to her, spitting it into her ear. She was not thinking about anything except how quickly she could get out of there. As she was starting to sit up, he grabbed her arm and brought her down, face to face with him. He looked right into her eyes, and she was terrified. "Welcome to the club," he snarled.
The next day she went to get tested. Of course she had a very advanced case of HIV. The guy who gave it to her was gone, but it most likely was a very advanced case. In only a few short weeks it bloomed into full-on AIDS. The doctors did not give her long at all. There were so many ailments that floated around this hell-hole of a city, so it was only a matter of weeks, they told her.
So now she was walking, feeling that possibly the end was near. Her legs wanted to stop, to just go back to her bed and wait it out, but she knew that she could not do anything of the sort. She had to see him one last time, she had to know for sure.
Vincent.
He had been so cold to her, but she loved him. Nothing can change real love, right? Nothing! Not even a few harsh words. Everyone has their weak moments. Maybe he had just been trying to protect her by turning her away. She knew that he had a horrible past, but so did she. His might be longer, but they could share each other's pain.
A wind tore down the sidewalk. Her hand came off the wall to wrap her ratty jacket closer to her neck, and lost balance. Down she went, hitting the ground hard. With the impact, her breath shot out of her body and a small line of blood dribbled from the corner of her mouth. The world dimmed around her, and she thought for a moment that it was all going to end before she could do anything to stop it, before she could talk to Vincent one last time. That was all she wanted.
She knew she was dying, and that the next breath may very well be her last, but she was determined to talk to him one last time. Because she needed it. Even the great Vincent could not deny a dying girl her last wish, could he?
No one was around on the street to help her up, and she was too weak to move. Weak, WEAK! That was all that she had been reduced to! Her, Yuffie, who had once stolen the Materia of the group that saved the planet, was dying because of a common cold. Ironic. Someone robbed her of the one thing she could never steal back: her life.
The world dimmed a little more, and she heard footsteps slapping over the pavement. She saw a pair of black boots come into the narrow alley of vision she had left. Hands scooped under her arms and pulled her to a standing position.
This was how she was going to die. Unknown, unloved, on a dirty street, in the arms of someone who just wanted to help her. This was not how it was supposed to happen, but maybe it was just as well. No one knew her anymore.
A hand cupped her chin and brought her face to meet sad, lonely dark eyes. "I am not your savior," a voice said. "But I love you."
She saw him one last time, a fleeting second. This was it. Her life was fading, but she managed to say "I love you too" back to him, and slumped in his arms.