Rating: R
Disclaimer: Do you honestly think I make any money off this?
A/N: I'm suddenly getting all these short story ideas. I don't know where they're all coming from!! Actually, this one came from a short ride in the car and I guy I know at school (who I'm not going to name). I'm far from mad at the guy but...I don't know...he inspires strange things.
A/N #2: Sorry I've been bad about replying to emails lately all you who've emailed me....I've been so busy. It seems I've dug myself into my own homework grave...blah. Speaking of which, I'm heading off now to do more of it!
Dizzy
She just sat there and stared off into space like the whole world was crashing in around her. I didn't look at her; not because I didn't want to but because I couldn't. She looked so lost, and it made me want to puke. So the little things were gone...the piddly little damn things that I know she can live without...the things that I've lived without for years. That's what this is all about, survival -- breathing long enough to see another dawn.
Sunrise is about as far away from me as the stars in the night sky. I can see them, and if I pinch my eyes just right it's almost like I can reach out and grab them, but they're always beyond my reach. They just hover there, suspended in the dank cloud of the midnight sky, taunting me.
She taunts me.
I know that I'm mad, I can feel it bubbling up in my stomach. Her uneven breathing is filling the car, the very air around her shuddering with tension and leashed emotion. All I can think is that I want to lash out, to stop everything the only way that I know how. But, I can't stop any of this, and I can't lash out that way at her.
She doesn't realize that her world has come apart at the seams...or maybe she does. I don't care. Either way, she must realize by now that I've been right all along. She could have just listened to me, and none of this would have happened. No one would have been hurt, our security wouldn't have been compromised, and I wouldn't be driving her half way across the damn country looking for sanctuary.
If she would have just listened...we'd all be living our own lives!
I don't pity her, but I feel sick all the same. Funny thing, to think of someone like me feeling pity. Who am I to pity other people when my own life is a horror movie on fast forward. The killing...blood...terror...it all goes by quickly now. I can sill remember when it used to move in slow motion. I remember the sound and smell of that bullet ripping into Eva's flesh. The smell of blood, death, guns...and fear. I stink of it, but I don't notice the stench anymore.
I can see Eva when I close my eyes, but I can't see any of the people I've watched die in the past half of my life. The people I've killed, while their blood still sticks in syrupy globs to my hands, I don't see their faces. Maybe there's a point at which even death takes on a tone of monotony. They're all the same after a while, each person I pass is just another blot on the horizon, blocking out my all important dawn.
She's let things through. I told her not to...I told her it was a mistake. She didn't listen.
Out of the corner of my eye, I can see tears slipping down her abnormally pale cheeks. She wants someone to wipe them away, to coddle her and nurse her growing weakness. I can't do that to her, and it inferiorities me that she's allowed herself to grow so drunken by sensation.
Even with as much as she likes to believe we are, we are not human. We're not even close to anything like human. Who is she to masquerade around as something she's not? If only she'd accept what she is, what we are, then maybe she wouldn't have to seek some kind of twisted validation in human relationships.
I told her once we'd always be on the run, that we couldn't stay in once place very long. The longer we stand still, the more dangerous enemies swarm around us. It's like standing in the middle of a stagnant swamp and just letting the mosquitoes land to take their fill. Standing still drains the life from our veins, makes us forget who we are and where we come from.
Max has forgotten, she thinks she's human with a heart and soul. She thinks she's some kind of hero who can bring justice to this backwards world. Why should we even give a damn about this world? They created us to be their plow horses, to carry the weight of the society they broke on our backs and pull it through fire, water, and ice. They're the ones with the tainted hearts!
Yet, she mourns their loss. I don't understand -- can't understand -- why she would open herself up to pain.
She groans into her hands from the other side of the car. Rain pounds against the windshield, but only heightens the sound of her labored breathing and muffled sobs.
My head is spinning, my stomach churning. I want her to stop...I can't take listening to her anymore. The sound fills my head until I think there isn't room for anything else. It over takes me...surrounds me...suffocates me.
Stop!
I'm dizzy, angry...confused.
Why didn't she listen to me? I warned her, tried to tell her that this would happen. Damn it! I tried to protect her like a big brother should! All I wanted was...what did I want? Her loyalty? Her love? She doesn't give love, neither do I. I couldn't have wanted that. I wanted her to be safe...I wanted her to be the Max I had known.
This girl beside me -- this sniveling, snotty, broken girl -- is someone I don't recognize. She's a stranger I don't want to know, and one I don't particularly like.
God...I wish she'd stop crying!
I'm going to crash this fucking car if she doesn't stop...I can't take it anymore.
The rain is pounding harder now, and I'm trying to will the world around to stand still. It keeps tipping and turning, balancing frailly on the guttural moans of the woman in the passenger seat. Her dark curly hair has a dull, wet sheen and her body seems to be on the verge of breaking.
I've got to concentrate...got to get her somewhere safe...but she won't shut up. Her wailing is a roar, and I can't hear the rain anymore.
Damn it!
I told her! She didn't listen!
Dawn is coming, because of me she'll get to see it. Another sun rise, another fire filled sky for her to stand brilliantly in front of. I won't let her crouch into the coming shadows, she'll have to face the aurora and the nightmares light will bring alive. Come daylight she'll see that I've been right, and I'll pry her eyes open with my own two hands to force her to recognize that.
Her sobs are beginning to recede now, and the world is finally starting to stabilize. With my renewed assurance, the dizziness fades. I know I'm right, soon she'll know too.