A/N: I know, I know, Faces, Places, and Memories needs an update, and the update is half-written. But this plot bunny bit and wouldn't let go. This story might be a bit confusing to some people, as it is written in the way I think- in pictures and colors. For a complete explanation, visit my profile under 'Basic Info'. Spoilers for episode 25, chapter something or other. Oneshot drabbly thing. Rated K, no pairings.
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Colors of the Moon
Schiezka's POV:
She thought differently. Not weirdly, not badly. Words brought to her head a stream of colors and pictures. No sounds, no words. Unless she wanted there to be some sound- but that was rare. She had to make an effort to think in words. Pictures of everything, every thought a picture or occasional color, not a word. She liked it that way. It felt right.
"Look at the moon," Hughes said from his desk. His words brought to her mind an image of herself looking out the window, a burst of magenta and then forest green, of her glasses and her eyes, of all the times she had ever seen the moon flashing by in quick succession, and a lingering picture of moonlight reflecting off her bedroom mirror when she was four. All that went through her head in a millisecond as she obeyed him, looking towards the window.
She turned and gazed out at the the sky. The moon was almost full, the color of old parchment, speckled with craters and shadows. The disk rose above the gray, dark building of Central, bathing the still nighttime city in calm, soft moon's-glow. A car's headlights briefly shined into the office and the spell was broken as quickly as it had fallen. But she knew that sight was one she would remember forever. She had a new picture for the sound 'moon'.
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A few days later, Hughes died. Gone. She couldn't quite grasp it- all gone? All black, all dark, never hearing his voice again. That night, after the funerral, she walked home. It was cold, bitter cold. But it was okay, really. She didn't care. She was numb inside- a mass of swirly grey, spiraling downward toward a blck speck. No pictures there anymore. She looked up and saw the moon, the same sight from the office a few days before leaping into her mind- Hughes' face, tilted toward the moon, profiled against the dark cabinets. And then the picture changed again. The moon was now not only the mirror's reflection and the city's skyline, but also a man's face awash in the moon's soft, healing light. A man that, after all, wasn't completely gone.
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I know this doesn't sound very Schiezka-like, but I am very like Schiezka and that is how I think. (What she saw when Hughes spoke is what I see when someone says that. Actually, I see more, but that would be a really long sentence. The magenta is the 'as' and the green the 'the'.) Although I sadly cannot memorize entire books, at least not billions of them. The words aren't that clear in the pictures in my memory for me. And please REVIEW!! D