Wednesday's
child
-
As
I walked down the road to nowhere I saw many people going in the same direction
and none the other way
-
I
looked at the closed door and sighed.
Tears welled up in my eyes, threatened to spill over. I bit them back. I would not cry. "I will
not cry." I chanted to myself. But all
was in vain. A single tear paved a damp
trail down my cheek and I turned and ran.
It's
not as if I… expected him to love me or care about me in the slightest. I knew they were all lies from the beginning,
lies made to turn me. I wanted
him to love me, though. I wanted
to feel the semblance of normality. I
wanted to feel accepted instead of like an outsider. I knew that I'd never get that. I've known since Father died. Trieze's death doubled my pain, my
longing. In a sense I wanted to be
deceived.
I
know everyone thinks that I'm a war-loving maniac. The truth is, I am. When
two people are fighting it's… beautiful.
There are no hindrances; the outside world just doesn't exist
anymore. The only thing on their minds
is winning, staying alive for whatever reason.
Human beings are so funny that way.
The only way they're free is when they're causing destruction then a
part of them feels remorse, but the other part is delighted.
So
how do they feel? Are they
delighted? They must be. They brought about my destruction. What people don't understand about me is
that while I feel that there is a constant need for battles, I believe that
everyone must love something, must care about something or else their
life has no meaning. For a while, I
thought all I cared about were battles and death. A part of me was afraid of that.
So when he came around. That
part of me wanted him, wanted him to love me, to care about me, since no
one else did.
I
tricked myself into believing that when he talked to me he was doing more than
trying to talk a suicidal person away from the ledge. I let myself get hurt.
I knew this was coming.
It's
started to rain. That's another thing I
don't understand. The rain. Why do people hate it? It's full of life, it's welcoming. Why do people insist on labeling
things! Most don't seem to understand
that evil is a human creation.
It wouldn't exist if we didn't say so.
A fish kills and eats another fish, no one points and shouts
"CANNIBALISM!" do they? Fish are
smarter than humans. They can't read
labels.
Look
where my feet have taken me. Father's
grave. I knelt by it. Droplets of water fall on the grave. Are those my tears or just the rain. Am I even capable of crying anymore? "I died with you." I whispered. I smiled sardonically at the last thought
that went through my mind before everything went black: I was born on a
Wednesday.
-
"Did
you hear something?" Quatre asked.
"No."
Trowa replied.
"Funny,
I could've sworn I heard the door open and close." Quatre murmured.
"You're
always hearing things." Trowa whispered before kissing his lover.
-
The
next morning, Trowa and Quatre were taking a walk when they spotted a body in
the graveyard.
"What
is that?" Quatre asked.
Trowa
shrugged. And they went to find
out.
"Oh
Allah. Trowa call an ambulance!" Quatre
shouted, checking for a pulse.
"Dorothy, Dorothy!" He called, for it was in fact Dorothy's body they'd
found. He looked at her face and saw a
smile there.
Trowa
came back and saw Quatre leaning over Dorothy.
"Why is she smiling?" Quatre asked.
"WHY IS SHE SMILING!" before collapsing into Trowa.
Trowa
took one last curious look at the girl before he and Quatre walked away. They cold both hear the ambulance coming and
both knew that it couldn't help. The
girl was dead. And her smiling face
would haunt them forever.
-
Wednesday's child is full of woe
