Okay...so I know I haven't posted anything in FOREVER, and I feel really bad. So, that's why I'm putting this up here! This little fic is not going to be updated regularly unless I feel like it. This is here for me to vent, and get re-inspired for my real fic "The Sight". Alright, well enjoy? All of the chapters are going to be full of angst because I'm feeling angsty. Also, not all of these chapters are going to be Rima. Some will be Amu. If anyone has any requests, tell me in a review and I'll consider it. Thanks~
This entry's writing prompt: The feeling of being hopelessly ovewhelmed
Rima's POV:
She runs in darkness. Broken pieces of glass strewn about her; they float in the air, cutting fair her skin as she bolts unsteadily past. Her matted long blonde hair lays in strings over her lifeless golden brown eyes. This poor child. This poor girl. Her inner self is scrambling around within her consciousness to piece herself back together. She's broken. A broken doll. Thrown around too much, and used to the point of her destruction. Did the others care? She wondered if they ever saw her as anything more than just a doll to throw things at. Memories, both bitter and fond, reflected in the jagged glass. Her parents screaming at each other; screaming at her. Her mother, coming at her with that broken bottle. She's not crying, and yet she tastes salt; yet her vision is blurred; no tears are coming. She's dying inside; she's sure. Oh, no. But on the outside she's fine; a bit sad; a bit lifeless; a bit frustrated, but everyone blows it off. Yes, she keeps acting as if everything's normal. The petite girl might snap a bit more than usual, and she might be more emotional than she should be...but nobody notices. No, don't listen to her cries. Don't listen to her saddened words. Don't notice; no. She doesn't want anyone to notice. She doesn't want to be helped. Her parents...they said that she deserved to drown; so she will. Just keep burying her. More and more, she buried under a sea of invisible objects. They are not real. Not actually solid. And yet she is able to drown in them. She sinks farther and farther down into the darkness as more words are flung at her; her once golden blonde ringlets were now filthy as they spread out around her while she sinks. Both inside and outside she's drowning. Drowning. Drowning in the invisible. Soon. Oh, so this broken doll with turn up shattered and dead on the floor.
I know it's short. These things probably won't be more than 2 pages long at most. Now, comments? Questions? Concerns? In order to fully get this, you need to look deeper into the meaning of these words. Let me know what your ideas are.
-TOYF OUT!