Alone with Rickety Materials.
I
am alone with rickety materials,
the rain falls on me, and it is
like me,
it is like me in its raving, alone in the dead
world,
repulsed as it falls, and with no persistent form.
"Weak
with the Dawn" (Débil del Alba) from Residence on Earth
Residencia en la Tierra, Pablo Neruda
When the door closes, she feels her heart go tight and her breath catches in her throat. It's the same, she thinks at first. Is she going to forget them again? Is it her turn now to search for them all through the worlds until she finds them, and she can't even be happy that at least they are together because she has stayed behind, she's now alone.
"No," Naminé whispers and she feels it echo in their heart. "That's not how it's supposed to go."
After the King has stopped trying to open a door (dontstopdontstopdontstop) she looks at her, despair in his eyes while in her heart there's just pain and she can't breathe.
"We gotta trust 'em," King Mickey says and he's trying to believe in his words. Behind them, Goofy is holding Donald to stop him from trying to tackle into the darkness. Then, the King smiles a little and gives a nod to himself. "I'm sure they're gonna be just fine."
When he offers his hand to go through the darkness towards the light, she looks over her shoulder for a moment and feels a soft caress inside, almost a whisper, and she nods as she takes King Mickey's hand.
Please, she begs anyhow, because if the world has a heart then it has a place where prayers can go, a place where even in the darkest place there's light. Please, let them come back home.