With every act of sympathy, need,
kindness, anything. You just don't come. I've waited desperately for you…and
only you.
What have I done?
What have I done to deserve this…this…pain…?
You intrigue me with your puzzles, those
waves of mixed feelings when you realize something and found out about another.
You seem to twist and bend flexibly, but
inside, your frail interior, your soul. It's crushed, the glass pieces
scattered into bits.
You're lost, confused. Those eyes clouded
with the same emotions and miseries as I.
I-I-I don't want…want you through that…that…
Thing I lost myself to.
My angel, don't try it. Don't act. Don't
speak.
You look and seem so cheerful, but you
aren't.
Those flashbacks of pain, loneliness,
depression, they flicker in your eyes, as they sink deeper, gnawing at your
wounds, your skin. You feel like you can't breathe, can't speak. I know it's
there. Don't… Just don't…
I wish I could get rid of your pains. But I
cannot do so, for I cannot. It's impossible. I just wish it were simple.
My dear friend, lover, admirer… All the
things that I used to cherish the most, has outgrown of my hands, and vanished
into the dust.
Your hopes, your dreams, they are still
there, alive within you. They make you strive for the longing it makes you feel
belonged. That's why you aren't like me. There are many things that I wished
could be changed.
The insults, oh they're callous and they've
brought back many wounds that weren't there, or healed. I know. I can see them,
the blood; invisible, trailing down to the floor of everyplace you walk,
lapping at your side.
They've hurt and manipulated you. I know.
I know.
My lovely angel, I've tainted you. I've
tainted every good within you now, as I'm lured away from you. Your purity
seems to be the only thing left, as it's form and will leave me in awe as an
idea passes.
It's absurd if you loved me, the way I do.
It seems it will, and be, forbidden love between us.
This feeling I'm having, every time, just
every time I sleep, or times something reminds me of you, a warmth crawls over
me, butterflies ion my stomach, and a goodness, something honest comes out of
me.
But just let me say this. No matter what you
or anybody else may think, or see, I'll always love you. Forever. Sealed with
eternity. But I will be always punished for the sins I have brought upon this
world and you might be dearly trapped within some of those sins.
I love you.
That was all to it. Tears spilt down, splashing against
the yellowing parchment. Tears were silent, as there was noise where I was,
surprisingly. Cascading down, the droplets fell, my eyes reddening, and inside,
my sadness, the depression, it was suppressing slowly, becoming more, engaging.
I gazed out the window, with the green scenery passing
by, with its splash of colors with the varieties of plants, flowers and weeds
growing. My hand was imprinted in the window, my face nearing the glass pane as
I had a sense of belonging in that atmosphere. Outside. But I am lost, to be
gone away where my deciding fate brought me.
Today. Today…
This last day I would bring upon my sorrows
and worries, as it would be my last. It has to all end. It has too. I've
brought a burden from hell, a plague that lives within me, day and night. It
haunts me in my sleep and it's uncontrollable. It's rapidly growing with haste,
as it becomes fuller and fuller.
It'll end by a swipe of a knife. I took it
out of my pocket and looked at the gleaming initials as it bathed in the
remnants of sunlight. I placed it back in my pocket.
Today is not the day to start this. I still
have things to settle, to finish. It's too late to start now.
This little voice in my head keeps telling
me, I've been saying that promise to myself, constantly stalling. Am I really
that afraid to end my life? Do I know I'm going to a place I thought I'd never
go, or be? These questions conquered over my mind, as they made me wonder.
I closed my eyes again, for a few moments;
time was thought to be still. I opened my eyes to reveal a solemn expression
written on my face with no emotion traced in my eyes, with the crackling, hard
silence shown in them.
Suddenly, the parchment fell to the floor
with a clank-type sound, but very airy, and silent. I bent down, and took it in
my hands, rolled it up, and placed it in my robe pockets. Then, raised voices
from the other car door came to my attention. An argument.
"I don't care what you think mister!!"
Some one replied back, "But ne, why?!"
But anguish flowed with the other voice,
"Why? Why?! Before I crush you into pieces, don't you see you're killing
us both?! I sworn you don't love me anymor-"
It was cut off by the most famous voice
there. Harry Potter. I've started to respect him. I guess.
This argument is really intriguing now to
think of it.
"You two, if both don't sto-"
Calling out, "Harry, you know I can't be
with him!"
A sigh came from him.
He responded, "I know, I know, but he's in
pain too! You just can't forget that, can't you?"
That person shrieked, "I haven't!"
Suddenly, some kind of idea split out of
Potter's mouth, "I know! You can go to the other side of the car, and kins will
go to the next car. Deal?"
It most likely seemed that they agreed
because you knew it, Ron Weasley came through the car door, looking, and
supposedly feeling, perplexed and embarrassed. I took a look at him, scanning
him, searching to see if any other available seats weren't next to me. Somehow,
the only seat was next to me.
I turned my head towards the window. My hand
was still there, and the emerald green seemed inviting somehow.
What am I to do?
I closed my eyes for a second, hoping an
answer would ring through my head. None came. I heavily sighed, but it was
quiet enough for only myself to hear it.
It really didn't seem quite awkward, his
eyes, gazing and boring into me. But I'm sure he feels awkward seeing me like
this.
God, what am I to do? What am I to do?
-End Fragile Chapter 1
Hope you enjoyed that!! So, what do you
think the main coupling for this fic is? ^_^ I would love to hear what you
think! I made a wallpaper for this fic, which frankly, I don't do that. But I
was inspired, as this piece was written at 2:21 AM CST. O.o;; The temperature
in here right now is 85 degrees which is killing me, since I'm in Texas. O.o;;
(Another amazing tidbit.)
Then again, most of my good pieces are written
around that time, in the "Witching Hour". (Quoted, sort of, off The BFG By:
Roald Dahl, who amazingly wrote some of the popular things such as Charlie and
the Chocolate Factory and Mr. Wonka! ^_^v)
Leave some positive feedback, and some
ideas!! I would love to know what you think!
~A-Chan Yuy!~
