"You don't have a soul. You are a soul. You have a body. Unless, of course, you exchange it. And that leaves you inside of an imperfect bottle. However, no matter what that thing may be, it will one day reject the soul. There is no after life for a soul that has been rejected. Which is why I fight. I'll fight as long as it takes until I can achieve my goal of getting my body back. I can't wait until the day I can place my hand on my arm and feel the flesh that acts as a bag, the bone that makes me solid, the blood that keeps me alive. The warmth of which keeps me living. The relief I'd feel as a single tear trails down my cheek when I
AM
stressed or upset, because I know brother and Winry would be right there to comfort feel the moisture in my mouth as
I
gulp down saliva that had built up. To go out in the sun and feel the stickiness of sweat that coats my skin. To exhale and barely overlook the light breath on my upper lip. For when the wind blows, throwing my hair in my face and tickling my ear.
JUST
to feel the warmth, the cold, the wet, and dry. To feel the relief as I lay on cool sheets after a long day. That restful feeling after a long nights rest. To be able to look in the mirror and see a human instead of a steel monster. To get in
A
car without being an inconvenience to others in the backseat. To walk down the sidewalk without the clang of metal interrupting my thoughts! To be a real boy instead of an empty
SHELL
! To not feel awkward at the table as those around me eat what I can't even smell! To not feel this confusion as I wonder if I ever even had a body, let alone be able to get it back! To be able to talk without the echo of my own pathetic voice in my head! To not be an outcast, "the weird guy who always wears a suit of armor", because, little do they know, that's what I'm currently made up
OF
! That's what I live with every single day, every sleepless night, every miserable second!...But...I have a reason for being here.
WHAT
has happened is my fault. I just wanted to see Mom smile. To hear her laugh. To feel her warmth as her arms would pull me close, as her hands patted me on the head, as her eyes would comfort me, letting me know everything would be alright. But it's not. It will never be completely "alright". Because Mom's gone. She's gone, and we can never bring her back. We've tried. It's impossible to bring someone back to life. It's impossible to see the gleaming eyes and joyful smile of a dead person. It's impossible to feel the warmth in the cold, stiff fingers of someone who isn't alive. I
COULD
never see her again. It's that simple. The brain tells the heart to pump blood, which circulates our body generating heat from our major organs. But if you're dead, your brain isn't telling your heart to pump blood and you loose the heat. The warmth. The life. You'd think by now, someone would
HAVE
figured out how to keep your brain alive. But no, humans are too complex, they get injured, they get sick, but no one can avoid death. Can anyone bring back the had
BEEN?
It's the thing that reminds us we're not here long. That we aren't promised tomorrow. That we aren't given an eternity. Our life ends just like that."
I refolded the paper I had found, glad I had read it. On the back the date of '9, Feb, 12' was written in black ink. At least now I know some of the things that bother Alphonse. Opening the desk drawer, I laid the note gently inside in the exact position I had found it, then pushed it close. A sigh escapes my lips as I pull on my red coat and walk out of the bedroom to meet Alphonse at the front door. He doesn't need to know I read it, and I don't plan on telling him. All I know is, I'm going to get his body back so he doesn't have to worry about those things again.
A/N
Thank you so much for reading, now if you wouldn't mind commenting a review to let me know what you think! I love reading you comments and they are very much appreciated!
