The Way He Sees Her
Disclaimer: Hey, I don't own the characters used in this story but I do own an awesome My Chemical Romance tee shirt that I bought at Hot Topic.
Sorry that my title is so freaking cliché, I couldn't think of anything and I had to hurry up and post this before my softball game. Just so you know, this switches between ages so Declan is his current age for anything in normal font, italics is for when he was younger, and bold is for when he was about thirteen. It's not in first person, though. Just so you don't get confuddled. Enjoy!
~Em
He looks at his sister. She was his twin, best friend, and the only one who gave a shit about what he did half the time.
Inconsistant.
That is how everyone describes her. He's not sure what it means, really but he thinks it's pretty spot on. To him, it sounds like a Fiona word. When he thinks of her, that's the word that pops into his head first.
If there were a color to describe Fiona, it would be blue. It was supposed to be a cool color but on Fiona, it seemed warm. Besides, as far as he knew, you couldn't measure a color with a thermometer let alone touch one, so howcould you tell how warm or cold it is?
Those were the things far too complicated for his small eight year old brain to process.
Odd.
That was a word he understood quite well, though he thought it had nothing to do with Fiona. All she'd wanted was for someone to notice her for who she was and not for who she was supposed to be or act like. She had acted out for that reason and that reason only. She understood people in a way separate from the way others did. Little Declan had no idea how that made someone weird.
Five years later, he began to see how those words related to her.
At thirteen, Fiona was different. Not as shy as she used to be. For a while, Declan thought they may have both been becoming their own people. It seemed as if they weren't as dependant on each other as they had before. She got into fashion and he got into dating.
For a while, he thought that they were on their way to becoming separate, no longer joined at the hip. He didn't feel the need to keep her constantly under control. They were free from each other and he didn't really mind. He thought she hadn't either.
He was wrong.
Eventually, she snapped. It wasn't for at least three more years, but it happened. She kissed him. In front of an entire party of people including his own girlfriend. It even ended up in the morning papers. She was tired of coming second to everyone else in his life. That was the result.
The next morning, she marched out of room her head in her hands. He had yelled at her and was sending her away. That was the last thing she had wanted to happen.
He knew he wasn't wrong to be mad at her, but he felt terrible for making her feel the way she did.
That was when he finally realized how badly he had treated her over the past few years. He'd neglected her and left her alone. She'd been ignored her whole life and after seventeen years of being left alone, this was the outcome. A breakdown.
She wasn't compatible with loneliness. She couldn't cope with being alone.
Figuring this out hit him like a punch in the face. It burned and seared his skin, hurting him on the inside instead of the outside.
He'd finally realized how terribly unstable she was and what little control he had over it now that she'd reached her breaking point. Still paralyzed by the surprise the realization had on him, he stood against the plain white wall of his bedroom. Sliding towards the floor, he felt his feet slide out from under him and he sat there on the floor, his head in his hands.
I am a terrible brother is the thought that circles around in his head. Is it true?
No. But he keeps thinking it anyway, essentially blaming himself for everything that has happened to her.
Fiona- the terribly lost princess, waiting to be found.