Seven hearts alighted in the darkest of the dark, while others smothered away. They arose from ruins as the adored children of the light—such pretty little angels. Fairytale princesses with princes coming for them on horseback (though most were long dead, so they settle for a little boy: second best) and a happy ever after handed to them.
They lived so happily while others died, while the darkness swelled in the hearts of those left behind (or in the void, the lack thereof).
The White Witch of Memories—almost, not-quite there, Princess of Nobodies—always asked the boys and girls who guarded her cage, "Do I get a happy ending?" because she hasn't done anything to not deserve one.
Her captors always answered the same, "Are you a princess, Witch?" and they laughed.
.
Seven hearts alighted and one stormed the castle, while Witch dreamed the sweetest dreams. Hand in hand with her prince, with her red hair dripping so perfectly over her smooth shoulder, Princess defended the end light—her birthright. She didn't listen to questions poised by Nobodies, "WHY DON'T WE—" and instead she listened to blood spatter on white walls, and knows all is well in the world.
Witch watched from her cage—her tower—and tried to convince herself that they, they deserved it.
Somebody, they whispered, dead, crawling back to the darkness, she is a somebody, and that we'll never be, never.
The heroes were fighting for her, hoping to win the key to her heart. They handed her jeweled weapons, and she gave them a reason to fight. It must be nice.
.
"Are you here to save me?" the Witch asked her, from the highest point of the tallest tower, hopeful that, maybe, someone, somewhere had realized the mistake; that she was worthy of a heart and a life and a happy-ever-after.
"Are you here to give me my happily ever after?" she'd prayed for someone to care and save her for so long, but never specified who, so anyone would do. She was sick of singing, caged.
This heart, so white, smiled down, pitifully, "Don't you know; haven't you heard? Only princesses get a happily-ever-after!"
.
Seven hearts alight, and Witch's beamed with jealousy. Faux-sweetness spilled from the other's mouth, (PRETTY DRAWING, OH! THIS IS ME!) but all that Witch thought was why. Why princess are so pretty and perfect and adored and showered in the light, heart glowing so gloriously, while sits, soaked in blood.
"You'll fade back into the darkness, nonexistent, where you belong, while we go forth into the light. You're just a nobody, after all."
Crying, wondering, she asked the light above why she should—had to—go to the darkness. The darkness was feeding, disgusting, haunting. She screamed to the Lightened Heart, "Why not me, why do I want, why not a heart? (WHY DO I CARE?)" and waited for the answer she'd never get.
She dug crayons into Princess's neck and twisted and twisted and twisted and tried to draw her own happy ending with Princess-blood, instead.
For the first time, she swore she felt something (something with no barrier line between hate/love/sadness/joy).
.
She destroyed the image in the mirror, and burnt the evidence. The princess tried to claw and scream and yell, but the Witch casted a spell, turning her into nothing like her. Wound up her heart and let no distress call be detected. She dug her fingers into the heart she always wanted,
"Don't you understand?" Princess muttered, and she watched as those deep ocean blues turned hollow, (just like hers) and that royal red turned white (just like h—)
.
And she wakes up, with nothing but red crayon and her own fake blood on her fingertips, and everything fades into
.
.
-static-
.
.
.
.
.
.
postscript;
She feels blood-soaked crayon shavings on her fingertips; she sees blue eyes and red taken from everything in her.
RED INTO BLONDE, RED INTO WHITE, BLOOD INTO WATER, HEART INTO VOID.
She tears into everything there ever was looking for (lost),
Red.
.
.
NOTES:
1. 4/5/09: Fixing up all old fanfiction, still. (24/5/09, fixed up spelling mistake. GAWD.)
2. I much prefer the re-write. It makes it clearer that it was Naminé's dream. Also, I hate tense. I hate it like nothing else in the world.