Hello everyone! This is just a spur of the moment one shot I came up with in my head a while ago. I posted this one shot a while back, but I kinda felt uncomfortable with it for some reason and took it down. But I realized that I still had this saved in my word doc, so I just thought, "Hey, why not just post it again?"
It's been a while since I updated my current fanfic, Let's Start Agian, but that is due to some problems that have been standing in my way, and because of that, I haven't gotten much time to update. I'll explain in more detail when I finish and upload the next chapter of L.S.A., which will hopefully be very soon.
Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this one shot that I find is kinda..deep.. in some ways.. o-o
When reading this one shot, you will find that no names are given to any characters and therefore kinda have to guess who the directed speech to a character is... if that makes any sense at all (^-^)
Also, I want you all to try guess the song that has a few of it's lyrics in this one shot. If you know it, comment it!
All reviews are welcome!
Enjoy!
In the truly gruesome do we trust, I will always land on you, like a sucker punch, singing I am your worst Nightmare.
Rain poured. It poured and poured. It poured for days. It poured for weeks. It poured in such a way one would think the sun had disappeared behind the dark, ugly, grey clouds forever. It didn't pour in drips. It poured in sheets. Step outside your home and you were sure to be drenched within a second. The rain...it made things dark. So dark. It was heavy on the soul. It was dark. It gave no hope. Especially when one might need it.
Be careful making wishes in the dark..
Streets were quiet. Not the type of quiet were not a sound could be heard due to no living beings or creatures in sight. No. There were people standing on footpaths. In fact, the footpaths were crowded with people. But not a sound, a word, a whisper, was uttered from them. They were waiting. Waiting for something. Someone. Plural.
It finally came. They finally came. The sound of footsteps were in sync with each other. As they came closer, you could tell which foot was being put in front of the other.
Left. Right.
Left. Right.
Left. Right.
Left. Right.
Left-stumble.
Then one cruel voice, sharp and clear, echoed through the street, followed by a sharp crack of a whip, and a defeated whimper.
Can't be sure when they've hit their mark..
The footsteps grew louder, puddles splashing. The atmosphere was already grim. Defeated. And as the synchronized footsteps grew even louder, closer, the atmosphere dimmed even more, like a light that was fighting to stay on was dimming out. Then, they appeared.
One by one, heads held low, chain bonds wrapped around their wrists and ankles. They walked with no life. What was the point in even trying to live? As far as they knew, their purpose unneeded. It was looked down upon. Spat upon. Their scars and bruises meant nothing to the humans. Any little dignity that they once had meant nothing. So, what was the point in even trying to break free? Death was only a few minutes away.
Death.
Oh sweet death.
They walked together. Together. If they had one little thing, one small, tiny, valuable thing they held onto desperately, was that they were one. They fought together. They held themselves together. And now, they walked together as one.
Left Right
Left Right
Left Right
Left Right
Left-stumble.
Now that they were in full view of the gathered together humans, the cruel shouts were louder, sharper. The zip of the whip in the air was in no doubt audible; the crack of it echoed even louder, and the impact was even crueler. But they kept on walking. Not long now. Death was calling out to them. Not long now, this misery would be over.
Who were these young, defeated, lifeless girls? Who were they? Why were they discriminated? Why was their purpose in life put down?
Why?
Their purpose was to defend. Not to defend in the way one would naturally think. One would think to defend was to stand your ground, jump in front of a loved one in defense of a flying bullet. But this was not the type of defense these lifeless girls were born to know and lived around. Their way of defense, was to fight. Their way of defense was to kill. Kill for the ones they were born to love and defend. But what was the point? The ones they were supposed to fight for were human. And right now, the humans didn't seem to care. They came here, they gathered here, to watch them die.
I'm in the details with the devil...
These lifeless, walking girls were all the spitting image of the ones they were born to 'love'. These girls, girls who didn't have any emotions, who never had any emotions, were already dead to the world.
These girls were known as, or were called, Otherselves.
In the lifeless walking chained group of Otherselves, was the slightest, oh ever so slight, glimmer of hope. The glimmer of hope was a colour. The colour was blue. And that blue colour was in a pair of unusual eyes. The colour of the other Otherselves unusual eyes had long faded away into a dull grey and white pattern. But this blue coloured glimmer of hope was in the eyes of one Otherself, who from the day she opened her eyes, refused to drop her head. And right now, she still did. She kept her head up, she gazed coldly at every single human until a shiver ran down their spine and they had to look away, if looks could kill, many many people would be long dead. Her walk wasn't as lifeless. She didn't trudge, she lifted her knees a tad bit higher than the others. She was the only girl in the lifeless group of Otherselves who's candle refused to burn out.
Hope.
Hope was a spark.
And one spark is all it will take to light a fire.
Gonna need a spark to ignite..
She didn't want to feel the welcoming lure of death just yet.
She wanted to die in her own time. But that time wasn't now. She knew her fellow 'sisters' were already dead. She knew there was no point trying to encourage them. She knew the kindest thing to do was to let them fall into Death's welcoming sleep as a bullet was put between their eyes and blown out the other side of their skull.
The girl was suddenly jerked forward. Her chain bonds around her bloded wrists were linked to her three fellow 'sisters' in front of her who had fallen to their knees. She knew their blissful nothingness was just seconds away from them.
BANG!
And then they gone.
The girl was then forced to her knees. Death was calling to her, asking her one more time, giving her one last invitation to join his opened dark arms, dark arms of nothingness. In her head, one last time, she declined.
Her two fellow Otherselves had their head's bowed beside her. They were ready. They had long ago accepted Death's invitation to nothingness, and now they were waiting for their final few seconds of their life in this cruel world to slip away.
10..
The girl didn't bow her head. She looked on.
9..
Her torn gloved hands tightened into fists. She was ready.
8..
She could feel her muscles in her legs, rusty from lack of doing so, tighten. Ready to spring.
7..
Her chain bonds were rusty. This would be no problem.
6..
Her long raven her was plastered to her face, but even it seemed to have life in it. It was ready to flow freely in the wind of freeness.
5..
Her muscles tightened everywhere.
4..
Her left eye sparked the tiniest spark. She was more than ready.
3..
Coming..
2..
Her lips curved up into the smallest smile possible.
My songs know what you did in the dark..
1..
She was gone. She leaped up onto her feet, ripping the bonds off her wrists and ankles, and she was gone with the wind. The bullet was shot only one second after she was free and already running. Her heart panged once in a sharp, split second happiness for the two Otherselves who were now at peace. No one had predicted something like this would've happened. No would've predicted that one girl still had a blue spark that had not dimmed. She was already gone with the wind, out of sight by the time their slow, human minds processed everything.
The girl ran as fast as her weak, muscle wasted legs could carry her. She was out of the town, in the country, standing on a lonely hill, taking in deep gulps of air, rain mixed with sweat running down her face.
She didn't run so she could live. No. She still planned to accept Death's invitation, but in her own time, at her own peace. The girl knew she was alone, she had run at least two miles out of the town. Her weak, weak legs gave out from under her, and she fell to her knees, rain drops and sweet sweat dripping of her battle scarred but beautiful pale face. Her blue eyes were closed over by pale eyelids as she fell back onto her back...
Five minutes of endless battering raining passed.
Her battered body suddenly jolted as she felt something lying beside her. She groggily opened one heavy eyelid, and looked down at her side to see what could possible be beside her.
Someone was lying beside her.
A young girl, about the age of fourteen was lying on her side, snuggled into the side of older looking girl.
She was the spitting image of the older girl.
This young girl was the girl she fought for. She realized that it was this girl who gave her hope to run free. She realized that this young girl appreciated her, accepted her.
Loved her.
And in that moment, the older girl smiled softly at the younger girl, felt her heart ignite into fire once more, and burned in silence. Burned for the small girl curled up beside her.
She inhaled one last sweet breath one last time, acknowledged blissfully the warm body of the young girl curled up at her side, before closing her eyes, and breathed no more.
Light em up..
Her heart still burned for the young girl. Her heart silently burned in hope.
Hope was a spark that lit a fire.
And dying in hope was the best possible way to leave a world.