Title: You Wonder
Author: HarmonyMarguerite
Rating: PG, language.
Characters: Cain. Really.
Summary: Despite what you want, the images play out behind your closed eyes. It plays endlessly in your memory. You lived it, watched it enough times, you can't help but know how this story ends.
NOTE: Another character study from me. This time from Cain. I have this thing about making people crazy, and another thing about pre-series drabbles. There might be something wrong with me. Comments and helpful criticisms are always welcome.
Disclaimer: Well, it's not mine, I'll tell you that much.
One punch. Two. The man in front of you gives a grunt of surprise.
You wonder if the sky is blue today.
It takes you a moment, sometimes it does, as you refocus on the beating before you to remember that it's you right there. You're the one getting your ass kicked by some bitch-ass Longcoat who jumped you on the way back to the house.
So, once again you close your eyes and pretend it's not there. It's not happening again (and again, and again, and again on an endless loop that is slowly driving you fucking insane) before you. You think about how beautiful that day seemed. It was sunny, and you long for a grey cloud just to break up the monotony. They say you get depressed if you don't see the sun for a long time, can you go crazy if you don't see rain?
A woman screams, and you open your eyes, just to see the vision of her. Try to ignore the men holding her, and just drink in the sight of the one woman who used to be your life.
Some loops you don't turn away from her.
This time though, you also look at the boy. Your brave, wonderful, little boy. Gods, maybe you shouldn't have taught him how to fight, it might have saved him a backhand to the face.
Then again, he was far too much like you for his own good.
Close your eyes and wonder if the flowers are blooming.
You can hear yourself scream.
You used to echo that scream, but you can't anymore, you're so damn tired. It's impossible to sleep though, (you'd laugh if you had the energy); your own screams keep you up at night.
Despite what you want, the images play out behind your closed eyes. It plays endlessly in your memory. You lived it, watched it enough times, you can't help but know how this story ends.
Not to mention the fact that you're still trapped in the fucking suit they put you in.
A moment's silence. Here's where the image would flicker and reset itself.
You wonder if anyone puts flowers on your family's graves.
You wonder if there's an empty one out there with your name over it.
One punch. Two.
Probably not, you admit, upon further reflection. If no one's bothered to come by to stop the loop, there probably isn't anyone who would care enough to make a grave for you. If they think you need a grave in the first place.
You move a hand. Nice hollow sound there. Nope, still alive, either that or this is a strange sort of hell.
Then again, that might explain a few things.
A lot cooler than you thought it would be.
There she is again. You debate trying to move your head enough to smash the clear plate before your eyes, but there's also a bump on your forehead and a headache that lasted a few loops that reminds you that might not be a wise idea.
You wonder if bread tastes as marvelous as you imagine you remember.
You scream, and you wonder.
And you repeat.
Again.
