A/N
Based off of the song 'Prisoner' by VOCALOID.
I've loved this concept for a while, so I apologize if there's anything similar to this. I'm writing this while feeling very depressed;my dear mouse just died.
See if you can guess who the 'captain' is.
So, enjoy.
Empty cerulean eyes, not really seeing, but nevertheless staring at the scorched chestnut patches of soil in between the gravel and rocks.
The sun used it's flame to make tan skin bubble, scorch to the point it began to peel and flower into a rosy pink.
His scraped knees curled to the thin layer of a scratchy, ripped cotton navy shirt, arms painted with an array of colorful blends of blues blacks and yellows, pulled his legs closer to himself.
The brunette was perched near the rear of the barrack.
He needed to inhale the air outside the crowded room. So much illness had spread...he didn't think he could last much longer before he lashed against one of those cocky forest green guards.
Something then floated into his vision, another something; the somethings were black, light.
Feathers.
Sluggishly, the boy raised his chocolate locks, peering towards the sun.
Two ravens had breezed past the fence, and were soaring away, shedding those beautiful charcoal feathers.
Making sure the thumping of boots weren't near him, for the time being, the boy extended and arm, nervous, but wanting.
Wanting to touch something soft, smooth, something that would not beat him or call him filth when his azure eyes looked over it.
It was when a bright light, only described as the color white, went passed the corner of his eye did he stop, quickly moving his gaze to the color that was so rare.
Beauty.
That was the word that came to mind, a word that made him feel incompetent not to know a word that truly described the boy.
This new figure looked to be around the same age as he. He wore the snowfall's purist, whitest clothes; long proper pants with a collared shirt and tie.
A true gentleman.
Incredible gold locks with astonishing sapphire eyes like his own...he was amazing.
Sora's mouth gaped a bit, he rubbed his eyes with dirt encrusted fists to ensure he wasn't dreaming or dead.
The boy was real.
And the boy looked at him.
And smiled.
The brunette felt his very core warm at the sight of the smile.
And then-poof!
The angel was gone.
As each day passed, Sora saw the boy what seemed more and more. He stayed at the borderline between the two worlds longer, costing him seeing out of an eye for a week, but completely worth it.
Especially when he wrote the first letter.
Remembered the creasings from what seemed to be a past life.
And examined the paper plane soar over the barbed wire, along with his heart.
The chocolate-headed boy's hands scratched against the ground, collecting rough clumps of dry dirt and rocks as he watched with anticipation.
The plane smoothly glided to the soft grass beside the boy's feet.
He picked up the letter...
And walked away.
Sora had collapsed to his side, curling his arms against his chest, legs following sync.
It had been just yesterday when he had given the boy his letter.
And it certainly wasn't easy to find paper and a pencil, of all things, in this...prison.
His heart gave a painful twinge when the image of the boy's perfect face appeared in his mind's eye...again.
Sss.
The sound of air breezing past him forced the brunette to sit up. There were never breezes.
Whilst sitting up, he almost crumpled the plane.
One...Two...Th-
Sora sharply took a breath, before looking to the fence.
There was the boy.
And he wrote back.
Sora.
I've read your letter over and over.
Do you really?
Even though you've only seen me once?
If it pleases you, then yes, I'll visit you, and write back.
Oh, by the way, I'm not the only 'beautiful' one out of the two of us.
Look at yourself.
XXX
He read over the words over and over, repeating them in his head, imagining what the boy's voice would sound like.
Although Sora didn't know his name, he could tell, without a doubt,
he loved that boy.
Writing each other messages, folding, and sending them gliding over barb-wire and currents of electricity.
Sometimes talking to each other, smiling, laughing.
This had become a regular routine of theirs.
Sora had written about his dreams of one day walking on a beach somewhere, how he had never seen the ocean. He wanted to write for a living for the small newspaper his hometown had; his secret fantasy was to grow wings.
He wrote to the boy, thinking and examining each sentence clearly, erasing and rewriting it, so it would be perfect for him.
When the sun fell, when the moon rose in the blackened sky, in the corner of the barrack, the brunette boy would clutch his pile of unfolded, crinkled papers, smiling gently.
It's been some months, and every day since that first day, Sora collected the letters, making sure other prisoners and guards alike would never find them.
The boy's letter came, as usual.
And the boy lingered, waiting, for Sora to read the message. The brunette took the hint, and opened it as if it was as delicate as brain surgery.
Sora,
I have to go away...
I'm so sorry.
But this is good-bye.
XXX
Cobalt eyes widened, he shook his head in shock.
He couldn't call him, he couldn't follow the boy, he couldn't get out...
The brunette would never be able to...
For god's sakes, he didn't even know his name...
No. No...
Sora cocked his head to the side, staring up at the boy.
The blond smiled, eyes closing.
Then the boy was gone.
Sora broke.
He was alone.
Sora didn't remember a time when he's cried so much...
It was a few nights later, while curling, clutching to his chest the only thing in this cruel world that has given him joy since this new life began.
The paper planes.
The brunette was reading over the last letter, eyes wanting to tear up once more. He closed them briefly- Something grabbed a plane, the last plane, from underneath of him, yanking it away.
Instantaneously, Sora's eyes snapped open. Two large men, guards, were leering beside him. Three more in front.
The two beside him wretched at his shoulders, his biceps when the brunette glared at the man who had taken the plane. Sora screeched, his eyes wide with fright,
"Give it back!!"
The man had blond hair and blue eyes, just like the boy, but his eyes were darker, cold.
He laughed cruely, before straightening it in front of his face. The man's eyes scanned through it, finishing with cold eyes to the struggling prisoner before him.
Black gloved hands gripped, crushed, the paper.
Shhp. Shhp. ShHP.
He ripped it.
The blond man ripped the paper, shreaded it, letting the serrated pieces float to the ground in front of Sora's eyes, like snow.
At first, his eyes widened in disbelief, in shock.
Then the brunette's face became red, his cerulean eyes gathered salty water. He wailed in anger, in anguish.
Even the guards didn't expect the strength the brunette had when he elbowed them in the gut, standing, his eyes having an animalistic-like rage.
He reared back his fist, screaming.
Initial pain for the blow didn't come for the captain until after one of his men held the boy at the shoulders, locking him into place.
The boy cried, screamed,harder.
Sora saw the blond man give him a look.
He wasn't sure what it was...but he didn't care...
The man on either side of Sora, bodies shrouded in black, faces hidden by masks, pushed him into the small cement room that so many had entered before him.
His turn had finally come.
And the boy was gone.
Although Sora didn't have any regrets in the world, he wanted to scream 'why?'
Why had the boy been taken away from him, without even knowing his name?
The brunette's heart thumped, he collapsed to his hands and knees.
The large steel doors began to slowly creak shut. Sora whipped around, making one last attempt to live, to see the boy, running towards the doors.
They closed in his face, giving him one last breeze of fresh air.
He wailed. The sad voice reverberated through the room, seeming to know it would be his last. His fists banged against the steel in futile attempts to release the anger, the pain.
No...no...no...
See him...Sora wanted to see the boy...
Miss him...Sora's heart panged in his chest, oh god, he missed that boy.
Memories of the boy flashed before his eyes, the first letter, the long talks they had, the letters that allowed him to awake when he was forced to, the boy who kept him alive through the beatings and punishment just by living.
The memories of drinking each word of a new letter, seeing the boy's dreams; he wanted to be, of course, an artist. The drawings he included in his letters proved he would do so well at that...
The boy who was the golden flower who bloomed among the tallest of weeds.
Sun shining at his golden locks, making them shine, just like his eyes.
The boy who lived in a completely different world, but the boy he loved.
So many images passed before his eyes at once, all of the boy, whether it be his face or just his smile, his laugh, the way he walked.
The gas forced blood up his throat, forced coughing spasms of his own.
More tears ran down his face, oh god Sora wanted to talk to the boy one more time, the boy he had tried to desperately to reach.
He scratched the wall, banged on it with a fist, with some of the last strength he had.
His hands were clutched at his throat, as if it would help make the pain stop.
Breathing was pain...his heart wallowed in the substance.
In his last moments, all Sora wanted was to see that boy one more time...talk to him...
Tears flowed down his cheeks much more freely...
I just...wanted...to know...
Sora screamed, looking up, hands crushed at his sides, heart stopping.
Your name.