Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade or any of its characters, merchandise, TV rights, ect… (I think you get the point.)
Summery
ONE SHOT – When the only thing that was keeping you from madness is taken away what can you do but plunge into the darkness of your mind. Mentions Mariah/Mimi also one side Tala/Mimi. Like all of my work this is just something that happened to float through the empty void inside my head. Like it or hate it please R and R as honest opinions are always welcomed.
Muse: She's back to Mimi.
Lamb: Yeah well I just like her and I think there's so much you can do with her character. There's always been a talk about Ming-Ming and if she had a split personality. The sweet little pop star and the provocative blading queen. I was thinking about and the story just kinda sprung from there.
Muse: I think I see where you're coming from. OK Dedi do your thing.
Dedi: This fic is dedicated to Iluvbeyblade cus she's just been so amazing lately, putting up with Lamb asking her for her opinion on ideas for fics and then calming her down when she goes into crisis over not being able to write. So Iluvbeyblade this is for you.
Lamb: Thanks Dedi. As always sorry for any bad spelling and if you feel the need to through thing at me please wait until I've hidden behind the sofa kay!?
Muse: On with the fic!
And I find it kind of funny I find it kind of sad,
The dreams in which I'm dying Are the best I've ever had,
I find it hard to tell you 'Cos I find it hard to take,
When people run in circles It's a very, very,
Mad World,
My Beautiful Lunatic
Dull blank eyes stared at him. She made no move to go to him nor did she signal for him to approach. There was no sign or clue that she even recognised who he was or where she was. Her dead eyes continued to stare at him unseeingly. He went to her then, spoke to her, called her name and brushed her once shinning hair from her face. She never stirred, the slow rise and fall of her chest as she breathed and the flutter of her eyelids when she blinked, the only movement she made.
He puts his arms around her and holds her closely to him. She's thin, so very thin. He tells her that's going to be OK, that he won't ever leave her and that she's safe now. He's not sure if she can hear him. There is no reaction to his words, and in his heart he knows that it is useless to try and turn her to him. She is rapped in her grief, her grief over a love that he could never compare to.
He pulls back slightly and looks into her eyes. Eyes that where once bright and warm, but are now lacklustre and void of life. He desperately searches those eyes for any sign of recognition, but they remain empty as she stares at things none but she can see.
Delusion (what she's seeing)
If you have to ask, you'll never know.
Where had she heard that from? She couldn't remember. Too long ago, far too long ago. Flashes of colour, a box that showed pictures-- Crazy. Insane. But why did she see it? Maybe Dada was right. Maybe she was a demon. Run, run, run away little birdie, before the angels get you. But her wings had been broken for years now, shattered with the feeling of a warm body crashing into hers, sending two little birdies fluttering to the ground. The angels had got them, but she still lived. Was that her punishment? Rockets red glare, the bombs bursting in air. Sing-song, apropos. The sky was the colour of burning blood, the scent of rotting and charring flesh ripe on the cold winter wind. Cold, she was so cold. The flames didn't come for her any more, not like before. Against her heart the silver ankh thudded, chaining her. She didn't want it! She wanted Mariah. Her Mariah. Oh, gods, Mariah. Mariah, Mariah, Mariah. Love, life, lost all so soon, so fast. She felt old, empty; Mariah was gone. Always gone. Sometimes, she wondered if she dreamed Mariah up, and then she'd see the picture-holder. Locket. And she'd hurt again. Better to have loved and lost than to never love at all. Is that really true? Better to not see the sky when you're chained underground. Beside a fallen tree, soft cries. Young girl, frantically pulling on a trapped arm. Tears freezing on her cheeks. Curiosity killed the cat... She kept moving, allowing the child's cries to fade away. Suddenly, a flash of blue. Of silver. Hope. ...but satisfaction brought it back. "..." No noise. Swallowing thickly, she tried again. "Little one? Why are you crying?" Harsh with disuse. The little girl froze. "My Mama, my Mama. She's trapped and I can't get her out. I want my Mama." She started to sob. She thought, long and hard. Maybe...? Whistle. Bah- CRACK. Scream. Pain. Black.
World slowly spinning into focus. Lights, camera, action. Roll cameras. Cut, copy, print. Blood, coppery, dull, in her mouth. Coating her hands. Body. Wooden spikes pierced through her and the land around her, turning them into pin cushions.
Like a needle in a haystack. Little girl, little bird, no wings to fly with, a smear of blood on the grey snow. Grey. Maybe... Moving forward. Hurts, oh gods, but moving. No pain no gain. Bullshit. "Hey. Hey, little one, wake up." Hazel eyes stared up at her, dazed with pain, darkening with death. She shook the body harder. "Listen. You want to fly again?" A nod. "Look into my eyes." Slowly, she let her walls fall, letting this little girl-child in. Flashes, life before this, warmth, pain, fear. Feelings. She pushed them aside, gathering the silver fire that rested inside--corrupting the flames!--and handing it to the girl. Each wound seemed to throb, more and more, blessed feeling! "Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me." Out, out damn spot! Or rather, ankh. Her and the late Lady Macbeth had different ailments and fates, after all. She had already tried to take that long fall, and fate or her sister fortune wouldn't let her. Fortune smiles at some and laughs at others. How does she favour you? I think she laughs at me. Line from a story. From a box on a table containing words. Madness. The girl was glowing now, and the ankh was safely nestled between those small breasts. Choking, she fell to the ground, life flooding every pore of her body potently. Shaking, she stood up and made her way forward, feeling the flames oh gods the flames her flames were back the flames how she missed them missed them more than her wings though not as much as her love. "If we shadows have offended, think but this, and all is mended, that you have but slumbered here while these visions did appear." Quiet, wistful, a time long gone. Turned around, faced the girl who was staring in horror. Getting harder to see through the blessed flames. Legs collapsing, she sat against the tree, smiling so happily. "Why?!" Mariah was there, in the flames with her, smiling. She'd waited! Oh, gods, Mariah, I missed you. I missed you so much. Let me come with you, please. I don't want this mortal coil any longer. "WHY?! Please, don't leave me all alone!" 'Angel, come on my love. Time to leave. It's been far too long.' Smile. I agreed. Skin too tight, getting harder to see now. The little girl was crying, begging. If you have to ask, you'll never know.
End Delusion
And now a movement from her, a soft smile graces lips that are now chapped and dry, but her eyes continue to stare into nothingness. He pulls her close once more and breaths in the sent of her, taking it deep into himself. Trying to fix it his memory. He won't be back, he knows it now. She's lost to him.
He releases his hold on her and steps away. She makes no effort to stop his departure, but continues to smile serenely and the pictures in her mind. He walks to the door without hesitation, to be undecided now would be of now help to him. In the doorway he pauses and turns for one last look. He needs this one thing, the last look so this is how he can remember her. She sits on a chair, in a white hospital gown, her bare legs crossed neatly at the ankle. Her hair is lose and falls over her shoulders in a bright wave. She would look like a young child, all naive innocence if it weren't for her eyes. The eyes of a dead thing. Which changed her from a child into a tortured angel. He can remember her eyes from before and finds it hard to imagine that they belong to the same person. But he has it now; she is imprinted on his mind this was, broken wings and tarnished halo. But it is his memory; he'll hold it close and hid it away and in doing so will keep some small part of her alive.
She was always unstable, her mind was a constant battleground as the two sides of her warred for dominance. Two sides, two extremes. A sweet angel one moment and a seductive temptress the next. Bordering on split personality but not quite, she was always just teetering on the edge of madness. Pushed towards it by some pulled back by others. But then it came, the truck tarring through the night like a demon from hell, smashing into the other car and driving on without a second thought. She had been trapped by the steering wheel unable to move or do anything to help Mariah who was trapped beside her. Her Mariah. It was a quite road and they found them hours later by which time it was too late to do anything. She was still in her seat turned at an angle so that the dead girls' head could rest in her lap. She had held her loves hand, as she died, her fingers still entwined with those of the corpse. Too much for her to deal with, too much pain and confusion. But now, now she's taken the long plunge into the black pit of insanity. Turning in now, in on herself. Living in the world inside her head nothing can get her there. No more monsters to haunt her dreams and turn them into nightmares.
Outside the sun is warm and bright, a mocking contrast to the pain he feels. The white walls of the mental institute reflect the light making the building to blinding bright to look at, yet this is what he dose. His eyes travel up and along, counting windows till he finds that one he wants. He knows which one is hers and as always can't help but hope that this time she will be standing there watching him go. But as always there is no one there. "Goodbye." He whispers, knowing she can't hear him, but still needing to say the words aloud. The building is brilliant bright against the blue sky and with one last look he turns and walks away.
"Goodbye. Goodbye my beautiful lunatic." Tala Valkov murmurs with a backward glance. And in her room Ming-Ming Pellow smiles to herself, as in her mind she and Mariah Chang dance in sliver flames.
Lamb: Well there you have it. I think this is one of the stranger things I've written and if anyone didn't understand all of Mimi's delusion please don't ask me cus I didn't get it that much either, I just sat down and it kinda typed it's self without me engaging my brain.
Muse: So yeah please let us know what you thought, and has anyone else noticed that Lamb seems to like killing the characters?
Dedi: She dosen't do it that much, you're making her sound like the grim reaper! Anyway Iluvbeyblade hope you liked it!
Please R and R as I'd love to know what you thought
Big luv see ya
Lamb