I'll explain. Read this before you read the story. Segment one is Asa; segment two is Manfred; three, Zelda. I noticed how A is the first letter of the alphabet, M is the thirteenth, and Z is the twenty-sixth. Interesting, eh? I thought so. Each segment is based on a fairytale—Asa, Red Riding Hood (did you know that that fairytale's actually about rape?); Manfred, Rapunzel (I know it sounds odd… and it is); and Zelda, The Wild Swans (by Hans Christian Anderson). It's kinda dark, and is on the high side of T, but non-graphic. I know it may be hard to "get" at first… but please read it anyways. I think (notice the think) I have a multi-chapter coming too-- more in the style of Spasmodic, which people seemed to like. But for now, enjoy the angst. Please.
Disclaimer: I do not own Charlie Bone.
1: A
little girl little girl don't go into the scarlet woods
.
Zing.
Lemon eyes snapcracklepop as he twangs the rubber band again-and-again—
Zing.
Zing.
Zing.
(and-again-and-again-and-again—)
Zing.
.
Her scarlet cloak (oh, why oh why is it scarlet?)
Scrapes the forest floor dry as he watches
Her through the eyes of
A monster.
.
"Zel."
"Asa?"
.
He can't bear her tone, can't stand the disappointment. He steps closer and sees the fear in her gold-green eyes—
Oh my love what hath we done?
—and kisses her harder than fire, harder than ice.
She squirms to get away but she cannot for he is—
He is the wolf. He loves her too hard but this—this cannot be love.
.
And—and after, he knows why she chose Manfred over him. And he finally understands.
And he finds that love isn't what he'd always thought it would be.
And so he is forever a beast, hissy-twitchy at night, running four-legged away from everything—
.
Whilst the raven-haired girl lies battered and bruised within the folds of a scarlet cloak and wishes hard for what she can never have.
.
(the beginning has fled. the middle remains. what has become of the end?)
2: M
let down your golden hair and I will set you free; think not of yourself but only of me
.
Through the soporific fog of red wine he thinks on his captors—nay, his holders
And they are not what he'd expected.
He pictures the wheelchair and the mother's exodus but the image doesn't merge.
He sees them now for what they are, black as white and white as black can be
A reddish haired boy with a mordant grin and a girl with a long nose and starry green eyes.
They are his captors, the ones who left, and he curses them for leaving him behind.
.
He knows that he will live his life here.
He has begun to hear the sordid song of –ahhhhh I'm crazy wake me up this can't be real—
But he has already learned to ignore it.
He knows, more importantly, that he will die here.
Oh yes, he will die and leave no descendants.
.
Unto your children and your children's children… as numerous as stars in the sky they shall be.
.
But that's not the life for me.
.
Up above, he wishes for escape. He wishes for companionship, for sour citrus eyes, cinnamon freckles dotting the bridge of a bony nose and a pointy-canined mouth, wise but laughing.
Up above, he wishes for poison. He wishes for love, for sharp cheekbones and sharper hips, just pointy enough to fit his hands, thinking of black lashes and bloodied lips, torn but amorous.
He doesn't know now which are only dreams and which really happened.
What scares him is that, someday, he won't be able to remember them anymore.
.
Asa and Zel… Asa and Zel… Asa and Zel Asa and Zel Asa and Zel and Zel and Zel and Zel and Zel
ZeldaZeldaZeldaZeldaZelda
But never any Manfred.
.
It hurts to be the one left behind.
.
(the beginning has fled. the middle remains. what has become of the end?)
3: Z
white feathers bright as night needlethread the firelight
.
It's the witching hour, and she knows it.
She wishes (if only if) she could be burned for such a crime.
Oh, to watch those pretty flames dance alight—to finally scorch-to-sleep in the arms of her Manfred.
She grins, hopeful and luminescent but
It is not to be.
.
Rooftop garden, cold and bleak—she watches there when they're asleep.
Midnight hair pools into silky threads about the shingles and she wonders—
Why must love only die?
Red mouth smiling, she gazes at the stars and twirl-twists
the white rose between her pale fingers.
The thorns pierce her fingertips and pearls of blood arise but still she spins
Spins for her swans, her brother and her lover.
.
The sleeping city shuts its eyes to the young woman who stands ragged and unflinching, arms outstretched, on the very edge of the rooftop of the empty house
on the brink, the very parapet of death…
…who will love me, hmmm? here I am, all ready and willing…
…but no-one ever comes.
.
And the seraph watches in empty mirth as the bell tolls and
dong
she wonders
dong
she remembers
dong
she relives
dong
she sorrows
dong
she claws her way back
dong
she droops
dong
she looks at last
dong
she sees
dong
she screams
dong
she finally cries
dong
and she loves and—
dong
she jumps.
.
Faraway, looking out a castle window, a young man waits.
—and he watches his little half-swan
At last spread her one wing and
Fly.
.
A mournful howl echoes over the sleeping city—
—and Manfred Bloor finally cries.
.
(the beginning has fled. the middle remains. what has become of the end?)
It's not that I'm crazy... it's that Manfred Zelda Asa are crazy. And okay, to be fair, maybe I'm a bit crazy too.
That being said, review. I can't make you, but I'd like it if you would.