"Gravity"
by tersaseda
A/N: The inspiration for this one-shot is two-fold. First, I must give ceaseless credit to Stephenie Meyer for this beautiful prose: "I was like a lost moon—my planet destroyed in some cataclysmic, disaster-movie scenario of desolation—that continued, nevertheless, to circle in a tight little orbit around the empty space left behind, ignoring the laws of gravity" (New Moon, 201).
Secondly, I tip my hat to the brilliant lyricist and performer Sara Bareilles, specifically in regards to her song "Gravity."
With a sigh, I let the steaming water flow over me. Little streams run in incoherent trails across my face and down my body, pooling like quicksilver at my feet. I watch dispassionately as their collective journey carries them to the drain and ends in a dizzying spin with the light pink suds of my favorite shampoo. Another day washed away to join the countless others that came before.
Another day since what? Or more frighteningly, another day towards what?
A violent paradox of repressed memories rages through me. My battered being yearns for oblivion, but panics at the hint of forgetting. I suppress a shiver as I realize that passing days mean nothing more now than to show that I am still alive.
Not living, but alive. That is enough to keep me in my senseless orbit, defying all logic as I revolve around its abandoned nucleus. I don't focus on the reason why it no longer is there, why my hold wasn't strong enough, or as to why it constantly pulls at me. To do so would be to remember, and to remember....
I am not fast enough to avoid the whispered glimpse, and suddenly, the water seems to fall like teardrops all around me. The splashes against the tiles ring out in invitation, and the silken touches on my cheek scorch my skin with their echoes of past caresses.
Desperately, my lungs gasp for air as my mind fights to free itself from the dangerous undertow of its own dark depths.
I will not cry! I silently resolve for the countless time, having long ago realized that the gaping chasms punched throughout me are the black holes I struggle against. I am the destructive force my being defies.
Spin, spin, little moon, I urge on. Just concentrate on spinning. If you stop, you will crash, and gravity will claim you.
