Characters: Hanna Cross and {...}
Prompt: 24
Notes: One-shot. Written while listening to 24, by Switchfoot. This is my first attempt at fanfiction in two years! X_x And it's also my first attempt at HiNaBN fanfiction. So be kind. D: I tried to make it a mystery as to who was speaking until the end, and then i realized it wouldn't matter, I have to list the characters when I upload the fic. XD Oh well. I hope I captured Zombie well. I really tried. Beep. Review please. D: PLEASE.
Numbers are everywhere. They exist in so many of our daily routines. Just surviving, living, breathing; we live for a year, that's 365 days. That's 12 months. That's roughly 52 weeks. That's 31,556,926 seconds. These numbers mean something, they mean everything, we just never take the time to remember that each second we live, we breathe, we eat, we sleep; it's all contributing to our survival. Our lifespan. Our lives depend on these numbers. They are written on our birth certificates, our tombstones, our urns, our birthday cakes. The numbers that make up our lives are everywhere, and we neglect them every day.
Fortunately, I have begun to take more consideration for the fact that these numbers exist. I cannot honestly say that they are the focus of my days and nights, but they are everywhere, and have a right to be acknowledged more than they are now.
When the world is asleep and I am awake, I think about these numbers. The number of times that I have said 'hm', 'yes', 'no', and 'of course'. I have realized these are the four most frequently used phrases of mine. I count them at night, try to remember what I have replied to all the people I've had to interact with. And then I turn to counting other things; the sirens outside, the car horns, the ---
But I'm interrupted. He's entered my mind already. Numbers…they don't seem to exist where he is. He just…is. He lives and breathes and smiles. He laughs and dances and doesn't just walk, he runs, he runs and skips and hops. He pushes the sun up in the morning and turns it around to see the moon at night. He throws himself in front of the proverbial busses of negativity, and comes out completely unscathed. He is a superhero, and he knows it.
I want to live like him, I want to be him, but who doesn't? Who hasn't wished to be him? No matter who has teased him, who has taunted or beat him up, who used to bully him; everyone wants to be him. I know it. I can feel the envy radiate off of everyone he meets, because they all want to know his secret. But the thing is, there IS no secret. It's just him. It's how he is, how he was born, how he was made to be. Sometimes I find myself wishing I was him and wishing he were me, and then I remember that I'd never wish anyone my fate. Never. As many advantages as there are to being me, there are more advantages to being anyone else. Even Worth.
I shake my head and drop it to my knees. He is filling up my mind. I remember our conversations. I stare into darkness which is never really darkness for me. I listen to what I remember from him. I see a shape in the corner- but another, another, another. So many shapes. All angular and strange. I grow curious. And then I smile, when I lift my head and see them all stacked up on one another. I hold one in my hand, gently. It's light and airy. I'm afraid to break it, I know I will if I keep holding onto it. I set it down on the ground and look at it fondly. I don't try to remember anything anymore; it wont work if I force it. We've established that.
There are 1000 paper cranes to make a wish. Not that I need one. I am happy not remembering, as long as not remembering keeps me with Hanna Falk Cross, who doesn't need numbers. His 1000 could be 100, 10000, or just 1. He doesn't need numbers.
Hanna just…
Is.
REVIEW IF.........
1. You wanna see me write more.
2. You have criticism.
3. You love me. :
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5. BAHAHAHA YOU READ TO NUMBER FIVE. Now you must review or OHMIGAWD A CLOWN WILL KILL YOU IN YOUR SLEEP. lolz. Those are funny.
No, srs though. Review. D: