Authour's Note: Alright. I found this in my stache of unfinished stories and I was like 'why not finish it?' It is pretty short, but some things are just like that. Hope you all like it! Please review!
Automail
He didn't chose to remember, he was forced to. Every waking moment, every minute of the day it was there, taunting him. As he ate his breakfast, as he brushed his teeth, as he stood in front of the mirror, he was forced to remember that hell existed. The gleaming metal was a sign of rehabilitation, strength even to some, but to Edward it was a permanent stain from his mistake, showing the world what stupidity could do to a family. What terrible tradegies there existed in this world.
There were some days that he would just take them off and pretend that he really didn't need an arm or a leg. He would just lie there with the idea trapped in his head that maybe, if he tried really hard, he could get up and walk away from hell all by himself. Grass beneath his toes, feeling the soft fur of a kitten, these were the senses that he could only imagine to feel again and on those days that he simply laid there, he could almost feel them again. But he couldn't walk away without falling back into reality, and that might even hurt more than simply living. He would have to connect the heavy iron locks that made his arm and leg which ignited the pain. Oh, the pain! If only he could scream out for once and show the innocent how hell really was. How it felt to live through tradgedies, taste the blood, and be the one who made the mistake. It would be a song that stilled the earth. The shock of his nerves connecting, and reality jumping back into its own light was unbearable, but he kept his mouth shut.
As much as the gleaming metal taunted him, hurt him, and forced him to remember things that should have been forgotted, he knew that if he spoke one word, it would break Winry's heart. She made it for him to stand again, it was her pride. He couldn't throw that away no matter how much it tortured him to keep it. So he walked or crawled through everyday carrying his guilt on his shoulders and his knees. It was a heartache either way. Some take it as a sign of rehabilitation. Some look at is as power or strength. Edward could only see his automail as a memory. And some memories were better left forgotten.