Clicking Sounds
Authors Note: This story takes place after Angel has brought Fred home.
When she was all alone up in her room and wouldn't come down this is what
she was thinking (I think)...
This was written in 30 minutes during a REALLY boring English class. This is
my first story. So don't hate me if I messed something up. I am bound to! :)
Oh and please R&R!!! I LOVE feedback!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Listen. Listen. Listen. Listen.
Listen. Listen. Listen. Listen.
Listen. Listen. Listen. Listen.
That's all I've been doin' lately. Haven't even had time to eat. Just listen.
Listen for that clickin' sound. When everythin' comes together. It's been three
months already, since Pylea. I've tried everything to make the click work. I
wrote on the walls of the nice room Angel gave me. I thought that the click
would read it and do what it said; I ran out of wall space a week ago. I kept
clickin' my tongue, hopin' it would get the idea, but my tongue went cold numb
beforeI heard that click. Lately I've been readin' the formulas on the wall,
tryin' to figure them out. But, Angel said it was just plain silly tryin' to recite
the Scientific Quotations of Sense. But I need sense. I need sense. That sense is what
that click is that I need. That click is when everything comes together. When everything
makes sense. Right now, nothing makes sense. So I'll just be waiting and sitting.
waiting and sitting until that click sounds.
Wait.
Sit.
Wait.
Sit.
Wait.
Sit.
I don't think I've slept for a while now. That nice Cordelia brought me tacos
two hours ago. She put them on the table, smiled at me, and left. She never stays to talk.
Not the way Angel does. The tacos are cold now. I watched them get cold, get all soggy,
and crumble to rubble. They're gettin' all dirty now. Collectin' dust. Kinda like my
brain, I suppose. Just collectin' dust. "Not all there." I heard that Gunn
man say from downstairs. I suppose I'm not. Maybe I'm here, in this room. Physically.
But my brain, it's back in Pylea. Collectin' dust there. If I don't hear that click,
it'll be there forever, I guess. So, I'll wait, sit, and be quiet. I can hear Cordelia
laughing at something funny. Shrieking with laughter. Shrieking with fear. Like the cows
in Pylea. Like me in Pylea. Shrieking. Shrieking 'till your throat went raw and bled.
What if I shrieked now? Would Angel come running? Checking on me? 'Cause I can't take
care of myself. I suppose I could shriek, but I shouldn't. I might miss that click. If
I make any noise I'll miss it. If I move, I'll miss it. So, until then, I'll sit, wait,
be quiet. And listen.
Listen.
Authors Note: This story takes place after Angel has brought Fred home.
When she was all alone up in her room and wouldn't come down this is what
she was thinking (I think)...
This was written in 30 minutes during a REALLY boring English class. This is
my first story. So don't hate me if I messed something up. I am bound to! :)
Oh and please R&R!!! I LOVE feedback!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Listen. Listen. Listen. Listen.
Listen. Listen. Listen. Listen.
Listen. Listen. Listen. Listen.
That's all I've been doin' lately. Haven't even had time to eat. Just listen.
Listen for that clickin' sound. When everythin' comes together. It's been three
months already, since Pylea. I've tried everything to make the click work. I
wrote on the walls of the nice room Angel gave me. I thought that the click
would read it and do what it said; I ran out of wall space a week ago. I kept
clickin' my tongue, hopin' it would get the idea, but my tongue went cold numb
beforeI heard that click. Lately I've been readin' the formulas on the wall,
tryin' to figure them out. But, Angel said it was just plain silly tryin' to recite
the Scientific Quotations of Sense. But I need sense. I need sense. That sense is what
that click is that I need. That click is when everything comes together. When everything
makes sense. Right now, nothing makes sense. So I'll just be waiting and sitting.
waiting and sitting until that click sounds.
Wait.
Sit.
Wait.
Sit.
Wait.
Sit.
I don't think I've slept for a while now. That nice Cordelia brought me tacos
two hours ago. She put them on the table, smiled at me, and left. She never stays to talk.
Not the way Angel does. The tacos are cold now. I watched them get cold, get all soggy,
and crumble to rubble. They're gettin' all dirty now. Collectin' dust. Kinda like my
brain, I suppose. Just collectin' dust. "Not all there." I heard that Gunn
man say from downstairs. I suppose I'm not. Maybe I'm here, in this room. Physically.
But my brain, it's back in Pylea. Collectin' dust there. If I don't hear that click,
it'll be there forever, I guess. So, I'll wait, sit, and be quiet. I can hear Cordelia
laughing at something funny. Shrieking with laughter. Shrieking with fear. Like the cows
in Pylea. Like me in Pylea. Shrieking. Shrieking 'till your throat went raw and bled.
What if I shrieked now? Would Angel come running? Checking on me? 'Cause I can't take
care of myself. I suppose I could shriek, but I shouldn't. I might miss that click. If
I make any noise I'll miss it. If I move, I'll miss it. So, until then, I'll sit, wait,
be quiet. And listen.
Listen.