The Black.
The words are a waste. They take away the meaning. Fly away, the magpie with something shiny. Scatter, dropping consonants and vowels like bugs. In the dark, they huddle. Huddling. Life forms need warmth. Energy. Need heat.
But the words, they keep pushing. Pushing River away with their cold. Their rigid. Stiff. It's not Simon's fault, clinical and true, the good doctor. What daddy doesn't know can't hurt River. Candy hearts and lullabies.
Then they took her away. She wanted to go, she did. To be smarter. Clever little River, wanting more and more. And they gave it. Gave till she bled. It hurt. It hurt. Needles in her eyes. Again. Again. Again. She cried. She screamed. Then she broke. Broken empty little shell, not a girl. But they started to fix her. Filling her up again, with sparkles and mirrors so she could see. Not a girl. Something different, more. And less. Better. Like she wanted to be.
Then Simon took her. Snatched her up. Tried hard to make her right, like before. Make her family again. Make her part. He gave her to Serenity, when she had none. Surrendered her to the black. And the quiet. Surrounded with loud. The pitter-patter of space pirates echoing through the still. Playful banter shining through. Serious talks and last minute peps. All of it. Breaking the still.
Fin.
