Okay, so this is my very first Fanfic. Be nice, I know it's not perfect, it's just a little idea I got for a one shot. And usually (don't kill me) I HATE these stories about Amy wallowing in her sorrows over Ken. Cuz' 1) They're Mega Depressing 2) I try not to believe he's Dead, cuz' it's just so sad and 3) somethings wrong with Amy (either she's pregnant, or she's going crazy, or she's getting a drinking problem etc.). I used to listen to Amy Winehouses album when I would go to see my mum (yeah, I'm english, mum.) on a saturdays, and I remember this song. I was listening to it on the amazing and incredibly wierd Youtube the other day and it kinda reminded me of Amy (Chen), so I thought, 'meh, I need to actually start writing soon, so why not a little one-shot songfic. Kinda short, I know. But, oh well.
It's okay in the day I'm staying busy
Tied up enough so I don't have to wonder where is he ...
I'm on my hands and knees, scrubbing away, aggresively. It's that Damn wine stain on my pure white rug! Why wont it come out? Ugh, maybe I should do the dishes instead. Or the laundry. Or vaccum.
Got so sick of crying
So just lately
When I catch myself I do a 180 ...
I feel awful, not crying anymore. Not showing any emotions towards him whatsoever right now. But, I guess I gotta move on. Thats all I can do really.
I stay up clean the house
At least I'm not drinking
Run around just so I don't have to think about thinking ...
I stare at my bottle of rose wine, should I? No. It's not going to help. It never did help, and never will. Back to the Sink.
That silent sense of content
That everyone gets
Just disappears soon as the sun sets
It's late at night now. I'm lost in deep thought. 'I gotta move on, that's what he'd want right? no, no infact he wouldn't. It'd break his heart if I acted like he didn't exist, if I became happy again, if I found someone new. Wait a minute, It's my fault! I could've used Ken's gun instead of his stupid taser. I, I KILLED KEN GREENE.' I scream, it pierces the air. Next thing I know i'm breaking out in wretched, croaky sobs, tears turning my face into h2o.
This face in my dreams seizes my guts
He floods me with dread
Soaked in soul
He swims in my eyes by the bed ...
He's there. Ken. He's right there. At the bottom of my bed. A charming grin permanantly smeared across his face. I want to laugh. I want to cry. I want to scream. I want to hurl my arms around him and keep ahold, forever. But I don't, i just sit there. Because I'm dreaming. I have to be, right? I watch his large, muscular build walk over towards me. Kicking off his black sneakers, he slips into the bed beside me, still grinning.
Pour myself over him
Moon spilling in
And I wake up alone ...
I sit bolt upright, my breathing heavy, but still rhythmic. I scan franticaly around the room, for any sign of him. ANY. His black sneakers. Him screaming at the TV. Him talking to himself while making breakfast, calling himself "Chef Greenetisimo" .. I think. But there is none. Absoloutly none. It's then, and only then, that I realise, it was all a dream. Sighing heavily, I go back to my cleaning, a single tear sliding down my cheek. Alone. Just like me.
I know, it's really short, but oh well. Please review. Don't know what I'm doing next, but it's definately gonna have TOTAL MALTARA FLUFF. Sorry if you don't like fluff. Why is it even called fluff?