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Disclaimer: Gundam Wing and it's characters do not belong to me. It's here, it's here, it's finally here. Sorry, but real life was interfering a lot with my writing. I was really trying though. You should see my writing journal, it's got all of my school notes in it now, because during class was the only time I had to write. Anyway, here it is. This is an interlude, and it's kinda different, but bear with me. It'll be ok, I promise. | ||||||
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Date: 03.29.02 Entry 17: Supplication POV: Heero | ||||||
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Faithful to Me By: Jennifer Knapp All the chisels I've dulled carving idols of stone that have crumbled like sand neath the waves I've recklessly built all my dreams in the sand just to watch them all wash away. Through another day, another trial, another chance to reconcile To one who sees past all I've seen And reaching out my weary hand I pray that you'd understand You're the only one who's faithful to me. You're the only one who's faithful to me. All the pennies I've wasted in my wishing well I've thrown like stones to the see I've cast my lot, dropped my guard searched aimlessly for a faith to be faithful to me. Through another day, another trial, another chance to reconcile To one who sees past all I've seen And reaching out my weary hand I pray that you'd understand You're the only one who's faithful to me. You're the only one who's faithful to me. | ||||||
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I had a black dream last night--literally. Everything in my dream was a shade of black. I will remember it forever. Vivid.. Torturous.. Alluring... How does one forget a dream including such stunning images....? It started with Relena, lying in her bed in the small apartment we now share. There was a little light, but nothing was in color. It was all black. She looked dead... She was dead... She was tired of fighting. I knew it was her cancer. It had to have been. She was still young. She could have stayed on at her job, but she resigned. "The political arena is a completely different battle than the one I must fight now...." she had said when announcing her resignation....when revealing her disease. The world had been so sympathetic....she received so many gifts and cards. She felt so guilty, but grateful all the same. That was when she'd asked me to help her, to come to her new small home. It wasn't just the mail and flowers that had become too much for her. She didn't have the energy. She said I was only a logical choice for her. I would be there, and be silent, and do what I felt necessary. I would help when it was needed. She needed time to grieve. It had been three months, and she had only begun to mourn the passing of South. She didn't blame my anymore. She was getting better. In my dream the nurse that visits every now and then to check on Relena pronounced her dead And the mortician came in to take her away. I held Relena's left hand, feeling the cool stiffness, noticing the blue tinge around her fingernails. There was a small band around her middle finger attached to another holding a small diamond. She still wore his ring. It looked different. I removed it and placed it in my shirt pocket. I didn't think she would want it destroyed. The nurse shoed me away while they took Relena from me. I peaked around the corner, wanting to see her go, but that's not what I saw. I saw a glinting stretcher with a red velvet--that's right, this was in color--bag buttoned around the shape of a small body. A lingering image for one to see--at any age. Don't ever peak around the corner. No matter how curious you may be. It will haunt you infinitely. The apartment faded from around me and I was in a church with humble cherry wood pews and astounding stained glass. Duo sat in front of me at the alter, his hand outstretched, a grin on his face. The gold cross he always wore around his neck was the only thing in the room with color. It shone more brightly than ever, almost like a beacon, nudging me to come. I knelt and that was when I woke. I was so disturbed that I rushed from the house in my pajama pants and a t-shirt. There was a church down the street. A Cathedral. The doors were open, and I went in. It felt different inside there. It tingled. There were candles lit in prayers rising to heaven. A priest knelt at the alter in supplication. Not wanting to disturb him, I sat on the pew behind him, watching the candles whispers their sacred words. Without thinking about it, I began to pray. It was something I had never seriously done. There have been times when I would shout out to anything for a bit of luck. But, prayer, to a god, to God--I had never done it. It would be admitting that I couldn't handle it. It would be admitting that I was weak. It would be admitting that I wasn't perfect. For some reason, last night, it didn't matter. The words ran over my lips and the utter helplessness I felt. I could do nothing. It was out of my hands. This time, I couldn't protect. I couldn't save her. The priest finished his prayers and nodded to acknowledge my presence. Sensing my distress he laid his hand on my shoulders, and lifted my concerns up to various saints who could direct my troubles correctly. It was uncomfortable, but I did not stop him. He was doing his job. I have heard Duo's stories, Men of the cloth most likely can be trusted. "Go with a renewed soul, my son," he said as he exited. Panic covered me on my way home. Relena. I had not even looked in on her.... What if...what if? I found her, asleep by the toilet. She'd had a treatment the day before. They always made her nauseous. She had a pulse. I was silly to worry. A chunk of hair fell out as I picked her up to carry her to bed. The doctor's said that would happen. They've said a lot of things would happen...and I can't change them. | ||||||
| This interlude is dedictated to my father, who was a little proud, and a lot in control. Now he's a minister and strong. He's been there and done that, and he's my role model. I love you daddy. | ||||||
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I'm going to be writing another story, with a feel similar to this one. It's not going to be fanfic though, but it will be posted here. My original work, so far, has not been reviewed, so who knows if it's been read, but I'm really hoping people will read this one. I'm thinking it's going to be called A Different Color, but that's just the pending title. Who knows. I'm almost done with the next chapter of Magatama. --Marla | ||||||
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