Title: Condemnation
Category: Songifc
Author: Genji
Warnings: Angst, Deathfic...spoilers (EW, specifically the puppy incident)
Disclaimer: I own nothing, Gundam Wing and its characters, plots etc. belong to their respective creators, to whom we are all indebted.
Song Disclaimer:"Just Remember" by Sister Hazel has been slightly, slightly modified from "You once were beautiful--I hear" to "I once was beautiful--I hear"...may those responsible for the lyrics forgive me.
Heero's POV
{lyrics}
/inner thoughts/--think little voices in your head...like the conscience, only different...like the ones that tell you 'don't put your hand on a red hot burner'. You know the ones I'm talking about?
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{A crooked chimney standing in the middle of a field
Once surrounded by the walls of work
By laughter and by love
The sound of children playing
And the sound of people saying
I love you--yeah, you}
It's all forgotten now. Frankly, I don't blame them. I don't want to remember what was once there--I don't want to walk these painful streets anymore, with the shadows reaching out to chill me--just figments of my imagination...they aren't real. But that doesn't alter the fact that I'm shaking ever so slightly.
These avenues were once filled with happiness--once filled with endless hope and optimism...now everyone expects the worst. Things change, people change.
But I have no excuse.
{A crooked tree stands naked near the center of the field
Barely rooted in the browns and grays
Of earth that once was green
A place long since forgotten
In a world of yesterday
Except by me--yeah me}
It used to be a vibrant expanse here, filled with greenery and children with their caretakers. The silence was drowned in their shouts and shrieks. It was a safe neighborhood, a good neighborhood, or so I gather from what I've learned...what I've forced myself to learn about what I destroyed. For it was beautiful...until I came along.
Over there, that's where I fell to the ground, laughing...almost. That's where I lay, free of my conscience, free of my responsibilities...this is where she stood--naïve, young, inquisitive, as was appropriate for her age...in that age, eons ago.
I never meant to make war upon civilians...never meant to destroy everything that could have been worthwhile...could have been beautiful.
Mistakes can't be undone--my folly is completely upon my own shoulders, and I will act as such until the blood that I shed cleanses me of my misdeeds.
They tell me I'm crazy. They call me insane. What they believe has no affect on me. I know what I must do...I must remain taunted by irreconcilable regrets until the day I can atone--until the day I die...
It seems amiss that no one recalls the time before this corruption of reality. Am I the only one who realizes there was once something other than all the walking dead lining these streets?
Everyone's forgotten the ghosts of the past--except me. I have become one.
{And Oh--whose plan was this anyway
And I never thought "He" would want it to be that way}
{It once was beautiful--right here
It still is beautiful--in here
I once was beautiful--I hear
I hear it can be beautiful
Just remember}
Some say there's some higher power deity up there, they claim we will all answer to Him in the End. The Apocalypse. Armageddon. Let them follow their own path--I answer to no one but myself, as I only have myself to answer to.
For every wrong I've done, for every life I ended, for every heart broken--I must take responsibility.
No life grows here.
My fault.
There is no more laughter.
My fault.
Orphans roam the street and entire families have disappeared from existence.
My fault.
The people I should have held at least some sort of emotion for don't know where I am, or what I might do....
Or what I'm about to do.
My fault.
My fault.
My fault.
{A twisted little image in your perfect little world
Of the chapter where it'd all begun
About a song already sung
Burnt around the edges
Nearly faded--nearly gone
Even you---yeah you}
I above all should know that life is simply a distortion of the truth. Zero taught me that, forced me to know it well...
I walk restlessly back and forth, retracing my steps made in an entirely different time. People stop and stare at the new crazy, the new loony to behold and move on... they've changed everything. Everything. They've dismantled my tombstone. I promised I would return and remove the body that was to save my place--my altar to my mortal misdeeds.
But they don't care. They don't understand. They weren't involved.
If I sit here, I can still smell the smoke, feel the ashes falling softly like soft whispers of snow. It's all happening again; I can see the mission going wrong.
All wrong.
All my fault.
I can smell the burning--both of the suit and flesh; I can hear the screams still echoing in the past. Why won't they quiet? Why can't they find their peace?
Why can't I?
{A shiny building standing in the center of today
Where indifferent people go to work
Go about their pay
Knowing they've forgotten
In a most convenient way
Yesterday--away}
If I let my eyes take in the reality--so much easier to see than the fantasies that run about my head, upon the insides of my eyelids...such loss of control it seems now--then I might be able to see the rebuilding of this forgotten cemetery. I might notice the office buildings and the workers traversing to and fro from work, driven by the almighty paycheck.
It's best they don't share in this experience, in this final homage to the beginning...
And the end.
{And Oh--whose plan was this anyway
And I never thought "He" would want it to be that way}
I kneel down before the unmarked grave. Un-shrouded, unshorn, unsaved. It all seems too easy, too simple to be the answer I search for, but I know it is only what all those that have erroneously fallen would demand. They would order my execution--they that had fallen by my hand. My hand alone.
Denounce me.
Condemn me.
Kill me.
I've been doomed since the day I was born.
I didn't ask for forgiveness, I don't want your forgiveness.
It must be this way.
There is no other way out--no harder way to bring about the conclusion of this catastrophe.
No other way.
I am my judge, my jury, my executioner. I know the crimes I am charged with. I know the penalty. I know I am culpable.
It's my fault.
Guilty, guilty, guilty, guilty! My mantra echoes to the far corners of the universe, and thousands lift their ghostly voices and join in, slaying me with a single word.
GUILTY, GUILTY, GUILTY, GUILTY!
My fate has been spoken for, my life forfeit.
My conviction and sentence announced to the world.
There is no turning back.
I pull my gun from my waistband of my shorts. /Too easy./
Place it against my temple. /Too easy/
Pull the trigger. /Too easy./
I was right, it was too easy.
{It once was beautiful--right here
It still is beautiful--in here
I once was beautiful--I hear
I hear it can be beautiful
Just remember.}
I can feel the blood pouring out of me; I can feel it water the earth. Maybe it will reach the one whose grave I lie prostrate upon; nourish the still body with my own flowing life from motionless remains.
Maybe now this barren field, barren colony, barren world, will be able to recover from the chaos, from the havoc, from the carnage, that I have caused in my time trespassing upon these lands.
Maybe then beauty will return as I leave.
I have no right to any beauty after all I did--after all I killed.
I have no rights at all.
I had no right to forget.
I have no right to be remembered.
~owari~