Oh, my gosh. I can't believe this. My mother would freak if she saw this. My dad would freak. My sisters would freak. My friends would freak. Even the people who've only known me for a little while would freak if they read this story.
Here's an example: "WHAT! OH MY GOSH, SILVERBELLS, YOU'RE NOT CAPABLE OF WRITING THIS! YOU'RE TOO QUIET! AND BUBBLY! YOU LIKE CUPCAKES! WHAT THE HECK, YOU'RE SOME EVIL CLONE THAT WROTE THIS, NOT SILVERBELLS! SOMEBODY GET RID OF THIS FRAUD!"
Ha. I'm being overly dramatic, but seriously, this fic is dark and twisted (by my standards). Omigosh, even I'm having trouble believing I wrote this! Ack!
Oh well. Everyone's got to write dark and twisted stuff at some point in their life, right? We all have a darkish side, after all… agreed?
I'll stop ranting 'cause I guess you're getting fidgety. Read on, review, and THEN you can fall over in a dead faint. :)
O*O*O
You didn't expect this, did you? You weren't expecting, as you scaled this forbidden tower, the consequences that would follow.
Now, as you lie writhing on the floor, you see your life flash before your eyes and wonder what you were thinking during those eight years of living as a lie. The pain from the fatal wound punctured in your side is nothing compared to the torment in your heart, isn't that right?
Bleed, Flynn Rider, because you deserve it, every single shock of pain that shoots through your body.
Blood slowly soaks through your clothing and pools on the floor beneath you, and your vision blurs. Your strength slowly ebbs away; every breath is labored. Ah, so now you know what dying feels like. Soon, you will fall, as I have fallen. Soon, you will be naught but a memory, as I am.
Bleed, Flynn Rider, and know that no one will miss you but her.
You know that you deserve this, don't you? You know that you have not only stolen and lied, but you've hurt as well? You know that the scars you have inflicted upon others still run deep, and will probably never heal?
You stole my flower from me, Flynn Rider. You ripped out of my hands the only reason I had managed to escape death for so many centuries; you stole my life from me, so to speak. Now, as you slowly slip from this world, tell me, was she worth it?
Bleed, Flynn Rider, remembering that every drop of blood that flows from your side marks you one moment closer to your death.
You love her, don't you? You'd do anything for her. She is your world, as she was mine. Do you know, she was mine even before she became the King and Queens', before she became yours?
She began as a single drop of sunlight, a single tear that fell from the heavens and blossomed on earth. Her petals were pure sunlight, her glow lustrous and golden. She was my everything; she was the one who kept me alive.
I did not kidnap her, nor did I do it for selfish reasons. She was mine to begin with, don't you see? I rightfully reclaimed her, my flower, and I would keep her and protect her forever after. That's the way it was, that's the way it should have been.
But you –
You are beneath my daughter in everything. What makes you think you can have her?
Bleed, Flynn Rider, and remember that your death is completely justified.
You have been inflicting this on yourself since the day you left that orphanage where you spent nearly thirteen years of your life. As you grew, traveled, learned from the master thieves at the time, you began to bleed, but from the wounds flowed not blood, but laughter.
Love.
Happiness.
Innocence.
Light.
You've been bleeding ever since, Flynn Rider. You've felt the pain, haven't you? That heaviness, that ache, that longing for someone – anyone – to heal you.
How then, did you manage to cover it up, like none of that existed?
Bleed, Flynn Rider, and know that you brought this upon yourself.
She could have healed you, too, if you had let her. If you hadn't cut her hair.
Now you must bear the pain for a few more agonizing moments, slowly bleeding to death high above everything you've ever known.
But one look at your face tells me that you do not regret cutting her hair; you don't care what happens to you, so long as she'd be all right – even though she'll never be alright if you leave her, if you die in her arms.
But there is no sense in telling you now, too late. You are already fighting for just a few more moments of life, even as the blood continues to flow and your time on earth slips through your fingers like sand from an hourglass.
And with every drop of crimson that trickles from your wound, the only words that repeat through your mind are I'm sorry.
So be it; it's not like anyone can hear you.
Bleed, Flynn Rider, and know that your suffering is sweet in the face of all those you've hurt; remember that you will not be missed.
Bleed, Flynn Rider, and know that you've been bleeding since the day you sacrificed your heart to be the greatest thief the kingdom has ever seen…
Bleed, Flynn Rider, and know that you've been bleeding…
since the day you killed Eugene.
O*O*O
No! Flynnie! I'm sorry, I can't believe I wrote that you wouldn't be missed! Arrrgh!
Am I a horrible and demented person?
I sure feel like one.
Am I willing to post this and ruin my reputation as The Girl Who Doesn't Like Creepy Twisted Stuff?
Yes.
Argh.
Life is complicated.
As always, tell me how to improve, and also let me know if the story was confusing and/or hard to follow.
Peace!
Silverbells (who now has a black mark against her for the rest of her life.*sniff*)