Warning: R Lots of blood and mind twisting stuff.
I'm actually writing more than when I don't have to study. I keep trying to study.. but..
*sigh
I know!! Everyone must be like: huh??? Tree?!?! What's good to write about in that?
Umm.. a Joshua tree is a desert tree that lives kinda close to Nevada, I don't actually
remember seeing any.. humm.. people love lighting it on fire... but the tree relies on one
specie of butterfly to pollenate it, and the butterfly needs it for hatching its eggs. Without
one, the other would die, and they provide mutual support for each other. Umm.. originally,
I was going to name it white lies, but what they're saying doesn't seem like lies. I kinda
wanted contradicting factors in this story. Joshua tree lives in the desert - the setting is
snow. Dilandau is murderous, Celena is innocent. Etc. But if I think of a better title, I'll
rename it and maybe revise this a bit.
Oh yeah... mail is fixed
Umm. this fic is majorly twisted. I don't know how else to describe it. At least Dying is
Easy, Living is Hard had complete sentenses. Humm...well... some stuff about
Dilly-sama's inner pysche.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Joshua Tree
by Rubie aka Jenn
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Blood.
Blood drips.
My blood.
What should I feel?
Anger?
Fear?
Pain?
Yes... I want to feel pain. I want *him to feel pain. But it's only me that's bleeding. It's
only me that feels pain.
I hate him.
I *hate him.
But I don't.
I need him.
He is part of me.
***
Blood.
Blood drips.
His blood.
My enemy's blood.
Who is my enemy?
Everyone.
I laugh. Why do I laugh? I don't know. There is someone telling me that I should not be
laughing. There is something inside of me that's bleeding, and it hurts.
It *hurts.
Damn you.
*Damn her!
She is so annoying. She tells me things that I do not care. And I do not want to know. I hate
her. How do I know it is a girl? I... I just do... And she is part of me.
A blur.
An enemy.
I turn and watch in morbid fascination as my sword glides through my opponent. He has
barely time to gasp before my sword has completed its arc, and traveled through his body.
His eyes widen, but his life has already left him. His head is beginning to leave him. And it
raises a mist of crimson blood. It rains blood.
And it fascinates me.
Blood sprays across my already stained uniform and lacquers the snow that is so lightly
falling. Blood streaks across the unearthy white, and gives it a ruby hue. Blood decorates
the pale frosted skies, and stripes the frost with life and color. Blood paints my face and the
snow, shaping similitudes of elegance and fascination. It burns into the snow. It burns into
my arms. It burns into my face. It burns into my eyes.
And it is beautiful.
***
But I scream. I scream and scream. But no one hears me. No one ever hears me.
And I cry. I cry and cry. And no one sees me. No one ever sees me.
What can I do?
So I watch the crimson skies and hear the laughter that is not my own.
And I bleed.
***
And I laugh. I don't know why I laugh. It is just so absurd.
I'm bleeding.
She's bleeding.
Why should I care?
Because it is me.
No... she is not me. I am me. I am myself. I will always be myself.
So I laugh more. It is just so funny.
But I'm crying.
I'm crying inside.
***
But I'm laughing.
I'm laughing outside.
So I cry more. It just hurts too much.
He is not me. I am me. I am myself. I will always be myself.
And he is not me. He will never be me. I will never burn the snow.
***
A blur.
I turn and block the silver. It is like the chines of the wind in the early mornings. And I
laugh. My opponent is weak. I move out from under the chine and reach. I reach with the
silver that is part of my hand, and touch him. It touches his chest, and it burns him. But my
sword is like water. It travels through him as if it melted away like the frost. No... he is like
water. My sword traveled through it as if he melted away like the crimson rain.
He is water.
It is raining.
And the snow is painted again.
It paints my face. And I laugh.
I cry.
I scowl.
***
I cry.
I scream.
I laugh.
This is not me. This is him. He is not me.
***
This is not me. This is her. She is not me.
But I am crying.
I am laughing.
I scream and the silver travels in arcs, and creates the sound of wind chimes. She is killing
me. I hate her. I *hate her.
*Damn her!
It rains wildly. The sky is red. My skin is red. The snow is red. My eyes are red.
And I bleed.
End
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
ahahahah... I just flunked my inclass essay, what do you expect? I screwed up my last
paragraph. bo ho ho! Urggggg....
Humm... this story is meant to be confusing. It just happens to be my general trend of
stories lately. Humm... it depends on how the reader interprets it. Dilly-sama isn't near as
moody as this. This takes place before the Great War.
woah... dying is really weird. Either people hate it or love it. No inbetweens. Perhaps death
is still a touchy subject. Umm.. how's blood?
Ahahah.... humm.. Crash and Burn is starting to get on my nerves. Its like a long therapy
session.. but I should finish it. So far, its the furthest I've gotten on any fanfic... usually,
I just slack off towards the middle. I keep getting this idea that Hitomi and Van are totally
off character and they're on the verge of insanity. That probably carries some truth.
Usually, I don't finish the fics the first fics I write for each series, ie Birds Never Fly for
Clover, Both Sides of the Mirror for ccsakura... etc. Humm... then again.. what did I finish?
So far 2 oneshots.. not including this one. ^_^;;; Umm.. I probably should finish it 'cause
I'm getting a lot of good response... urgg... the ending is really hard to write though... and
everyone wants humor and romance...
Umm.. some random fic I sudden wanted to write. I'm actually writing more when I study
than when I actually want to write.
Yes! So what if I'm a tiny winy bit homicidal. Its okay! Everyone is! }} umm... yeah...
umm....
I'm actually writing more than when I don't have to study. I keep trying to study.. but..
*sigh
I know!! Everyone must be like: huh??? Tree?!?! What's good to write about in that?
Umm.. a Joshua tree is a desert tree that lives kinda close to Nevada, I don't actually
remember seeing any.. humm.. people love lighting it on fire... but the tree relies on one
specie of butterfly to pollenate it, and the butterfly needs it for hatching its eggs. Without
one, the other would die, and they provide mutual support for each other. Umm.. originally,
I was going to name it white lies, but what they're saying doesn't seem like lies. I kinda
wanted contradicting factors in this story. Joshua tree lives in the desert - the setting is
snow. Dilandau is murderous, Celena is innocent. Etc. But if I think of a better title, I'll
rename it and maybe revise this a bit.
Oh yeah... mail is fixed
Umm. this fic is majorly twisted. I don't know how else to describe it. At least Dying is
Easy, Living is Hard had complete sentenses. Humm...well... some stuff about
Dilly-sama's inner pysche.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Joshua Tree
by Rubie aka Jenn
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Blood.
Blood drips.
My blood.
What should I feel?
Anger?
Fear?
Pain?
Yes... I want to feel pain. I want *him to feel pain. But it's only me that's bleeding. It's
only me that feels pain.
I hate him.
I *hate him.
But I don't.
I need him.
He is part of me.
***
Blood.
Blood drips.
His blood.
My enemy's blood.
Who is my enemy?
Everyone.
I laugh. Why do I laugh? I don't know. There is someone telling me that I should not be
laughing. There is something inside of me that's bleeding, and it hurts.
It *hurts.
Damn you.
*Damn her!
She is so annoying. She tells me things that I do not care. And I do not want to know. I hate
her. How do I know it is a girl? I... I just do... And she is part of me.
A blur.
An enemy.
I turn and watch in morbid fascination as my sword glides through my opponent. He has
barely time to gasp before my sword has completed its arc, and traveled through his body.
His eyes widen, but his life has already left him. His head is beginning to leave him. And it
raises a mist of crimson blood. It rains blood.
And it fascinates me.
Blood sprays across my already stained uniform and lacquers the snow that is so lightly
falling. Blood streaks across the unearthy white, and gives it a ruby hue. Blood decorates
the pale frosted skies, and stripes the frost with life and color. Blood paints my face and the
snow, shaping similitudes of elegance and fascination. It burns into the snow. It burns into
my arms. It burns into my face. It burns into my eyes.
And it is beautiful.
***
But I scream. I scream and scream. But no one hears me. No one ever hears me.
And I cry. I cry and cry. And no one sees me. No one ever sees me.
What can I do?
So I watch the crimson skies and hear the laughter that is not my own.
And I bleed.
***
And I laugh. I don't know why I laugh. It is just so absurd.
I'm bleeding.
She's bleeding.
Why should I care?
Because it is me.
No... she is not me. I am me. I am myself. I will always be myself.
So I laugh more. It is just so funny.
But I'm crying.
I'm crying inside.
***
But I'm laughing.
I'm laughing outside.
So I cry more. It just hurts too much.
He is not me. I am me. I am myself. I will always be myself.
And he is not me. He will never be me. I will never burn the snow.
***
A blur.
I turn and block the silver. It is like the chines of the wind in the early mornings. And I
laugh. My opponent is weak. I move out from under the chine and reach. I reach with the
silver that is part of my hand, and touch him. It touches his chest, and it burns him. But my
sword is like water. It travels through him as if it melted away like the frost. No... he is like
water. My sword traveled through it as if he melted away like the crimson rain.
He is water.
It is raining.
And the snow is painted again.
It paints my face. And I laugh.
I cry.
I scowl.
***
I cry.
I scream.
I laugh.
This is not me. This is him. He is not me.
***
This is not me. This is her. She is not me.
But I am crying.
I am laughing.
I scream and the silver travels in arcs, and creates the sound of wind chimes. She is killing
me. I hate her. I *hate her.
*Damn her!
It rains wildly. The sky is red. My skin is red. The snow is red. My eyes are red.
And I bleed.
End
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
ahahahah... I just flunked my inclass essay, what do you expect? I screwed up my last
paragraph. bo ho ho! Urggggg....
Humm... this story is meant to be confusing. It just happens to be my general trend of
stories lately. Humm... it depends on how the reader interprets it. Dilly-sama isn't near as
moody as this. This takes place before the Great War.
woah... dying is really weird. Either people hate it or love it. No inbetweens. Perhaps death
is still a touchy subject. Umm.. how's blood?
Ahahah.... humm.. Crash and Burn is starting to get on my nerves. Its like a long therapy
session.. but I should finish it. So far, its the furthest I've gotten on any fanfic... usually,
I just slack off towards the middle. I keep getting this idea that Hitomi and Van are totally
off character and they're on the verge of insanity. That probably carries some truth.
Usually, I don't finish the fics the first fics I write for each series, ie Birds Never Fly for
Clover, Both Sides of the Mirror for ccsakura... etc. Humm... then again.. what did I finish?
So far 2 oneshots.. not including this one. ^_^;;; Umm.. I probably should finish it 'cause
I'm getting a lot of good response... urgg... the ending is really hard to write though... and
everyone wants humor and romance...
Umm.. some random fic I sudden wanted to write. I'm actually writing more when I study
than when I actually want to write.
Yes! So what if I'm a tiny winy bit homicidal. Its okay! Everyone is! }} umm... yeah...
umm....