.This isn't a song fic…. O.o
For those of you who love Basta, welcome.
This is a story going with the lyrics of the song "Little Wonders" by Rob Thomas. Enjoy.
Let it
go,
let it roll right off your shoulder
don't you know
the
hardest part is over
Basta sighed deeply and blinked his eyes as if they were two sheets of lead. So heavy… He ground the back of his head into the street, his hair crunching against the cobbles. He gulped, breathed, his voice a gasp. Whimpered. Blood soaked through the entire front and back of his shirt. He was shot, 3 times. One in the belly, the other in the shoulder, the last through his liver. He was done fussing, done screaming and thrashing. Now as he started to detach, he felt easy and surprisingly calm.
Let it
in,
let your clarity define you
in the end
we will only
just remember how it feels
He never felt pain like this. He'd been beat up, fallen off horses and so much more, but this? Like a thousand knives piercing the same spot over and over again. I'll never kill another person, ever. He tilted his head to the side, and ran his hand through the puddle of blood coming from his torso. It was sticky and cool.
Our
lives are made
in these small hours
these little wonders,
these twists & turns of fate
time falls away,
but
these small hours,
these small hours still remain
How long have I been laying here? The sun had started to disappear, leaving him alone in the grey dusk. And incoming stars. And how silly it was, how he got here that is. He was walking. Just walking. Then there was a random shoot out. How funny it is, how all his life he could dodge in and out of troublesome situations, weaving like a snake, but when for one of the few moments in his life when he was being truly innocent, just walking through town with a soda in his hand, he was hit.
Let it
slide,
let your troubles fall behind you
let it shine
until
you feel it all around you
Is it really time? Do I have to go? But it seems ok… he blinks again, he doesn't realize that he looks like a sleepy child. He rubs his eyes, leaving bloody stains across his handsome face. He yawns; that hurts. He hiccoughs, and begins panting.
And i
don't mind
if it's me you need to turn to
we'll get by,
it's the heart that really matters in the end
He touches his belly, his fingers tracing over the holes in his black tee-shirt. It's warm around the holes. And wet, really wet. He doesn't have anyone. No lover, no friend. Not even a father. So he takes in a shivery sigh and relaxes.
Our
lives are made
in these small hours
these little wonders,
these twists & turns of fate
time falls away,
but
these small hours,
these small hours still remain
Something flutters on the street beside him. Basta groans as he turns his head to see what. A little sparrow is watching him. It cocks it's head and sings. Basta moans and tries to keep his eyes open and the tears away. The little animal hops towards him, until it is breadth away from his open hand.
All of
my regret
will wash away some how
but i can not forget
the
way i feel right now
It hops onto his hand, nestled in his palm. He smiles at the warm feathery creature. His hands and feet are growing cold, but the animal stays in his sticky perch, singing. Basta feels all the knotted agony untie itself and it seems to flow from his body, along with the dark red blood.
In
these small hours
these little wonders
these twists &
turns of fate
these twists & turns of fate
time falls
away but these small hours
these small hours, still remain,
It is almost time now. He knows it. He can feel it. And as it begins to rain, the sky a curious shade of blue and grey, he releases his breath. He is ready.
Still
remain
these little wonders
these twists & turns of fate
time falls away
but these small hours
these little
wonders still remain
Review.
