Sorry for not putting up anything in sooooo long, I lost enthusiasm for my other stories, although I might try one day to finish them. This is a story for a friend of mine who is leaving me to move to another state soon. So, I decided to encourage her icarly obsession, by writing her a fanfic in the style she loves.
Welcome to the remnants of a war torn America, its citizens and country utterly destroyed, inside and out.
xx
The war never left him. Its metal hook of memories sliding around his spine and tugging him back every moment of the day. He couldn't escape, he could never escape.
The sun finally peeked through the window accompanying the annoying tune of his alarm clock from upstairs. He sighed, lifting his head from his arms. The dreams had woken him last night again, another sleepless night. He ran his hand over his face, hoping to rub away the memories and the sleepiness, finding only harsh stubble tickling his fingers. Stubble, it was against regulation, he would have to shave. The alarm clock upstairs was getting increasingly louder, a preventive measure to make sure he would wake up, in case he ever actually slept.
Pushing the kitchen chair out, he stood, glaring at the harsh colored walls. The paint choices of the Perrax were severely lacking. The reds were supposed to remind them all of the blood spilt in their fight for freedom, as if he wasn't reminded of that every night. The stairs were to his left here, back at the apartment they had been to his right, he wished they were still to his right. The shower was to the left here too, the Perrax liked things being to the left. He hated things being to the left.
A scoff escaped his lips at the thought of being different, they weren't allowed to be different, not even to have thoughts different from those of the Perrax. In exchange for being the same they were given safety, food, a life, but what was supposed to be their reason for living? They couldn't even be themselves, who they were inside. In exchange for life, they were mindless drones, serving the Perrax's every will.
Laughter bubbled up in his throat as the cold shower water stung his face. Mindless drone, that's all he was, all he would ever be. He doubled over laughing, the sound of laughter was so rare he couldn't stop it. It echoed through his empty home, bouncing off sharp corners and empty walls and back into his ears. He kept laughing, even after his 10 minute regulation shower ended, leaving his bare skin exposed to the cold air of January.
x
Blue orbs stared back at her, whose were they? They couldn't be her eyes, that frightened look, hidden in the shadows of her pupil, the weakened girl they reflected, that couldn't be her. This was who she was, this couldn't be her.
Looking down from the stranger's eyes, she glanced over the body shown in the mirror. The ribs protruding from under her skin, like the guitar strings on a human accoustic instrument. She ran her fingers over them, half expecting to be able to strum them and hear music, like the music they'd heard before the war. Music, music, when had been the last time she heard music?
Laughter bubbled in her throat for the first time in years, snorting out through her nose. Out of all things today, she was worried about music? She would probably never hear music again. She would never hear music again? Never? Water slid down her cheeks, wobbling on her chin, threatening to fall on to the tiles below. Never? She tried to recall the last time she had heard melodies, harmonies, notes, anything, but found no memory to think of. The first droplet of water, the first tear, fell and exploded on the floor, forming a puddle which rippled with each successionary tear.
xx
The razor ran over his cheeks, stripping away any chance of individuality in his appearance. Clean-shaven, that was the rule, just one to which they all must abide. A sigh, rested just behind his lips, afraid to come out, at the thought of looking the same as everybody else. He just wanted to be different, and not in the way he was.
Finishing, he splashed water over his face, hoping once again to rinse away the memories. It didn't work, it never worked. He straightened up, unraveling the kinks in his back one by one, hisses of pain sneaking out at the pain of old wounds. He slipped the jacket on over his shoulders, shrugging it on without a care. He didn't bother to look into the mirror at himself, why should he care what he looked like, she wouldn't and niether would anybody else. First impressions didn't matter anymore, besides, it wasn't as if a bad impression could change anything, the Perrax would still get their way.