Title: Shelter
Prompt: Even if these memories make me sad I've got to go forward, believing in the future.
What will become of her from now on?
After some time, she had stopped thinking of that.
Or maybe she simply forgot.
There is a noise, and then there is the familiar walls of white—white, clean, and sterile. There is the repetitious beep that comes from the heart monitor, and then there is the mask that sits upon her face assisting her oxygen—exhale out, beep, now inhale.
Maybe she had forgot how to think at all.
The breath that falls from her is shallow as lids seek to raise from their slumber. There's a blur of the lights over head, and the tickle of the pale coral strands that have tangled in her sleep. She's breathing evenly with no assistance. There's no noise to signal a heartbeat but the feeling of one within her throat. Her voice is soft speaking to only herself, "Nothing changes anymore."
She could never find the right way to tell them.
She could never find the right way to tell him.
She could never find the right way to tell them it was too late.
She could never find the right way to tell him to give up.
Restful mind, and peaceful eyes. The sound is gone within this flower bed. There's the softest of shifts as she rolls to her side clutching the tablet snug against her chest, and then a nuzzle to sink within the flowers that supports her head more. She tried, and she's not awake in these motions and words. Her eyes are heavy, and she is lackadaisical within this virtual world—within her world.
A thought, and then a shuffle to sit forward. She's clicking the tablet on, and hitting the icon.
No messages in 2539 days.
But she's not lonely.
The sigh exhale of her breath is soft, and it's habitual. It's expected. A yawn follows after as she gives way to a stretch to release the tension within her muscles, and then there's the pleasing feel of the flowers underneath her head once more. She's breathing in the scent. She's basking within the lights that hang from the ceiling above her flowerbed.
She's alone, but she's not lonely—she's up, and she's moving, and she's opening the tablet once more, and then she's dragging the virtual pen across her digital canvas. Licking her bottom lip she ponders for only moments, and only seconds. Her mind is creative, and her fingers are moving. There's desire for the sun to hang above her, and give her the warmth she thinks it would provide. She's compromising her reality.
She wishes for the sun—she faintly remembers someone who resembled the sun. She remembers bright yellows, and startling blues. She's creating, and she's rebuilding the world around her. Large towers of earth, painted skies of blue, a sun of warm orange, and coaxing yellows. She's watching and she's waiting as it materializes here in her now. Fingers drag the pen over the delete button—she's hesitating, and she's halting in her practiced movements.
Running is all she can do as her toes dig into the grass she brings with childish strokes of her pen across the digital canvas. Her heartbeat is wild, and it's heavy with excitement. There's no plan for where it leads—she's yet to decide. The flowers are growing and the trees are forming. She's unhappy with one, and she's dragging it from one spot to the next. Water is pouring from the cliffs, tall and high, down to the world below pulling tides of clarity.
Pale viridescent soak within the world only she could create. Fingers bring the pen from the tablet to rest at her side. Heels tip back. She's falling upon the grass. The wind kisses her skin. The pale coral strands tickle her cheeks. Lips give way to the softest of smiles—it's as if someone has come to lay beside her within this empty world devoid of all but her. They, her and this nonexistent being, are relishing in this feeling and this warmth. It momentary, but it's happiness no less.
The air that trembles from her. The fingers that trail within the fabric of her yellow top. The lips that she presses tight. She's holding it gripping the fabric within her grasp.
She's alone, but she's not lonely.
It doesn't bother her at all.
H o p e.
She wanted to hope.
She was desperate for hope.
She didn't know how to hope anymore.
Her chest is tight and there's a cry that threatens to fall. It's her hand shielding her eyes that keeps it at bay, and the silence of just her that locks it away.
No messages in 2578 days.
Footsteps walk with confidence. There is no need for hesitation within this world of only her. She walks among the trees that hold no leaves. The muted world she has made lights the lanterns of red that hang from their branches glow with each step she takes. Her digital canvas shines within the world as her pen drags across it. There's desire for the moon to hang above her, and light the way for her as she dreams it would. She is sterilizing her mentality.
She wishes for the moon—she faintly remembers someone who resembled the moon. She remembers pale white, and endless black. The ground is shifting. It's raising in some places, but lowering in others. She's redecorating the world. Large cliffs devoid of water, painted skies endless black, stars scattered among the painted sky, and the softest of clouds that allow the glow to pierce them. She's watching and she's waiting as it materializes here in her now. Fingers drag the pen over the delete button—she's frozen, and her fingers shake in her practiced movements.
Sitting at the edge is all she can do as her legs swing in gentle motions. The wind blows with the smallest of chills at the stroke of her pen across the digital canvas. It's cool in it's caress upon her skin, and it's comforting. Her heartbeat is slow, and it's comforting within the quiet of night. Silence rings, but to her it sings.
Lids flutter shut as she inhales the night air. Fingers bring the tablet to rest upon her lap. Lids do not attempt to raise. The pale coral strands give the slightest sway with each movement. Lips give way to the softest of smiles—feet shuffle behind her within this empty world devoid of all but her. They, her and this nonexistent being, are relishing in this feeling and this solace. It momentary, but it's happiness no less.
The closed lids shut tighter. The legs that swung in gentle motions leave their sway let her curl them to her chest. The lips that she presses tight. She's pressing her forehead to her knees. The yellow is like the sun. The black is like the moon. The pale coral is like the earth in spring.
The earth would never touch the sun, nor would it touch the moon.
She's alone, but she's not lonely.
It doesn't bother her at all.
The glow of her screen illuminates beside her. Lids flutter open in startle sound that comes with it's glow. She's lifting her head to lower her pale viridescent on a canvas far to detailed and far to perfect in it's design. There's a shift, and then there's a panic as the world she has created alone leaves her for white. Falling is all she can do. Falling is all she's able to do.
She left behind the home that he made her.
Hatsumode. It's where she sees a being of all her aesthetics walk in an outfit only for this occasion. They hold the hand of the back with fingers laced. They smile at the yellow who has pressed his fingers to the small of her back in affection. There are giggles, grins, and smirks. They give their offerings, and they give their shakes upon the bells. They give their silent prayers for a good year to come.
The yellow is squeezing her free hand.
The black is turning to her with the softest of smiles as she continues her descend below.
Her heart shakes loud within her ears forcing her fingers to dig within her shirt of yellow. There's alarm, and there is panic. There is anguish as she sees this distant memory before her. The yellow is a blonde, and the black is him. There is a strangled cry as she becomes desperate to look anywhere but them.
She doesn't have the power to look away within in her forever falling state.
The blonde is taking her to her favorite coffee shop, and he is taking her to dinner. The blonde is giving her gifts for her birthday, and he has lifted her from the ground spinning her as she gets accepted into her dream school. The blonde is dragging her from her dorm room with the largest of grins radiating in warmth, and he is picking her up from class with the smallest of smirks cool upon his lips. The blonde is forcing her to the movies but she loves it regardless, and he is giving her the most affectionate tap upon her forehead. The blonde is picking her up with no intent to tell her where he's taking her, and he is asking to spend forever with her.
Her fingers reach out begging to hold onto these moments in time that filled her existence with joy once upon a time, "Naruto. Sasuke-kun."
The blonde is concerned when she does not smile coming out of her doctors appointment, and he gives way to pinched brows when she dodges his questions about the same doctors appointment. The blonde is shaking her as she lays upon the floor of her home, and he is carrying her limp form into the hospital with fear decorating his face. The blonde has picked her up from the hospital no longer giving way to smiles radiating in warmth, and he's there within his study trapped by papers scattered around the room with her name scribbled upon the top of them. The blonde rushes into the hospital room she has checked into, and he is researching at her bedside. The blonde is sobbing in silence as he holds her hand sitting beside her bed after a particularly painful chemo treatment, and he has taken her from the hospital into the darkest of warehouses.
The blonde is giving her the gentlest of kisses upon her cheek with shuddered breaths and sharp intakes.
He is whispering promises to her as she sits plugged into the machine he has designed to keep her alive.
She is crushed witnessing the tear that finally falls from his glassed over obsidian to drip from his chin.
She is crumbling within these memories. She is torn from her world completely and utterly with these moments on display before her. Pale coral stick to her face as the tears fall in painful gasps. She is screaming, and she is begging, and she is calling out for him. She sobs in pleas to let her give him—no, them—comfort. She wants to hold them. She wants to be the one taking care of them. She's desperate to protect them from the pain her existence has caused them.
She hopes to give them shelter as they have done for her.
She hopes to carry them along as they have done for her.
She hopes to hold their hands as they have done for her.
Feet are touching the ground giving way to weakened knees with a strangled cry. She is no longer floating within the memories she had forgotten.
She's alone, but she's not lonely.
They were giving her shelter.
There's a noise, a beep of sorts, that chimes within the silence only interrupted by her cries. There is hope within her shaky fingers that reach for the momentarily forgotten tablet before her. There is longing as she clicks the notification lighting the screen.
One new message.
H o p e.
She would hope.
She was filled with hope.
She remembered how to hope.
Pale viridescent scan the message overwhelmed with that same longing heavy upon her heart. She knows they are there. She knows the earth has touched the sun. She knows the earth has touched the moon. She knows, with hurt decorating her face the earth, had touched them both. It had reached out and they had continued to take it's hand in theirs. They had continued to love her. They had continued to do all they can to find a cure for her.
They had never forgotten her once.
She had never been more loved.
"Even if these memories make me sad, I've got to go forward believing in the future. Even when I realize my loneliness, and am about to lose all hope, those memories will make me stronger." her tears continue endlessly as she curls into herself with the tablet tucked within her arms.
"I'm not alone, because of you."
Thank you.
Author Note
This was originally written for Lifetimes, but after a friend, TealAntlers, doodled up a sketch (the cover for this work) as I was writing it and sharing my progress with her I decided it should be on it's own. It's not as long as I wanted it. It's not as impacting as I wanted it. It's not even close to what I wanted. I wanted to do this so much better, and with so much more heart. I ended up scrapping the original version making this my second attempt at this, honestly.
I have a lot of room to grow and improve, and maybe hopefully in the future I can come back and rewrite it for a third time. Maybe in the future I can convey all the things I wanted to with this. For now though this is the best I could do. I hope you all enjoyed it, and thank you for dealing with my inability to ever write happy shit for more than a second.
That being said though, please be kind enough not to swipe TealAntlers work. She did that completely of her on will as a little thing for me and I seriously cannot explain to you how much I balled when I saw it. . . cause I'm a absolute loser.