Pairings will be: Axel&Roxas. Riku&Sora. Set in stone. I will try to fit in Zexion&Demyx. Leon&Cloud. Sorry, but NO Namine pairings will be set up, unless you can suggest a plausible one that conforms to my idea of 'ngawwwwww' Please keep this in mind. Now on with it.
Typewriter
.0
I am mute, but by no means deaf.
I am called Namine, I don't know my last name- why would anyone tell a mute person their last name, after all- what use would they have for it. It's not like they could pursue meaningful careers or even simply introduce themselves. Sometimes, I think of how these average people (you, average people) take everything for granted, sure- they were given capable voice boxes, yet what do they use these organs for? Just to complain about everything they don't own, everything they don't know, everything they can't have. Barely anyone actually is thankful for what they do own, what they do know, what they can have- what they can say, sing, shout, yell.
I live by myself, alone- ignored, forgotten, remaining unheard; in my uncles apartment, squashed in the middle of the busy metropolitan streets, buildings and gaudy neon signs- once clean brick walls tainted and choked to an almost-death by obscene amounts of pollution. Yet I am content. Unlike all those out there, whom I can see- whom I can hear from this vantage point of mine, my sanctuary. For a mute girl like I, a simple window, a wooden chair and a well-worn yet still comfortable cushion brings ultimate joy. To the north, I have a perfect view of the traffic congested bridge, suspended over murky waters and during five-fifty-four o'clock, bathed in an orange glow thanks to a setting sun. To the west I see the road that leads further along to a pristine little suburbia. Along the east, of course is downtown, dangerous thrilling streets and the sounds of wailing emergency services guaranteed, and right below my humble little apartment, a small park- somewhat neglected, yet still adored by the few that cross its unkempt green grass during a short trip to the café for a quick bite before rush hour.
Yet, it is during the pitch-black hours the late night, that assure me- I am mute, but by no means deaf. I hear the shouts of frustration, the cries of agony, the silent yet prominent wails- just begging for help, I hear his dreams about her, and her dreams about him. I hear contented snores, faked attempts at sleeping to lay off accusations about insomniac behavior. Tired sighs from people who just crash into their pillows, and the very same sound escaping from those waking up to fulfill a night of keeping the city safe or going against the crime and order system.
I am mute, but by no means deaf, and I hear all the lies and barely any truths.
Yes, it's me making another pathetic attempt at writing something. Hopefully this turns out better? A year more of, ahem, 'experience' and an advanced english class, surely I can print out a better fiction right? I dunno. You tell me? This chapter doesn't give away much (duh, point much?) so yeah, the next chapter i slike 2.5/3 done? That's not even a proper fraction or number or whatevs. Thanks. Review? Make me feel like someone is actually reading and appreciating this? Sighs. Pathetic attempt to feel loved.
KAHT