Starfire
Disclaimer: I don't own Golden Sun.
Jenna counted the strokes. Fifty on each side, every night, for the last eight years. Since before the storm. Since before she was miserable.
After the storm, there was no family left for her. She wouldn't move for days after the disaster. She wouldn't speak for months. But somehow, she made it through. Not unscathed, for she was scarred beyond what the people of Vale could understand. Except for one. The one she had had to turn back for, to pull out of the darkness, when she had crawled out by herself.
Isaac, who couldn't speak for two years after the accident.
Accident. Pshah.
That had been planned, by gods or men, she knew not. A sadistic joke in fate's mind, sitting there, for who knows how long. Yes, yes, good fun to cull off the family of a fourteen year old girl and oh, let's kill her best friend's father as well. Lotsa laughs, eh?
Fifty. Time for the right side.
She had dwelled on the past for to long. It was starting to harden her.
On the inside, of course. The very core of her, the part that hurt the most, was becoming stone. Cold, hard, dreary, rock. A rock with a girl's face painted on. With her body, and inside, the crystals of her dreams and wishes, secret desires and hopes that she had shared with noone.
Come to think of it, she had never met a girl her age. Isaac and Garet were nice, but they couldn't really understand her that well. Garet was clueless, and if Isaac had any notion of what was going on in her head, he was silent.
In her mind, she designed a girl, one her age. Not that tall. Long hair, long as hers. A different color, softer, bluish, maybe. Paler than her, better at Psynergy than her, but less physical strong. A healer, like Isaac. Someone who could tell off Garet without fear of his size.
Jenna stopped.
Someday, she'd go out in the world and find a girl like that, or better. A friend, unlike either of the two boys.
Jenna tried to think of them without her. What if she had died on that platform? Would anyone miss her? Like Isaac missed his father, Dora missed her husband? Like she missed her family? Would anything change? She tried to recall what major things she had done to change their lives.
In Garet's life, she stood in the background, until a few months ago, when he noticed her. And not really noticed her as a friend, but as a girl, someone with the body and necessary organs to raise a child. This wasn't bad, but it annoyed her to no end that he wouldn't stop being entirely stupid around her.
Isaac . . . Isaac would've spoken again, even without her presence, although, maybe, the loss of a friend would've also hindered it. He was really the better of the two friends. Even as he was speechless with grief, he understood her pain, even if he couldn't understand her. And he wasn't idiotic while in her presence.
Jenna was not truly alone, but she had noone, except the girl she had imagined.
She had long since stopped counting the strokes. She set down the brush, and walked to her window, sitting calmly. Jenna peered through the curtains.
Felix had once told her that, on the night of her birth, he and their father saw a star shoot across the sky. He knew at once that she would be a fire-Adept, although he was an earth-Adept and her mother a water-Adept.
Little starfire, he called her. Noone called her that anymore. Except the memories of her family. And once, in a wild dream, where someone understood.
Disclaimer: I don't own Golden Sun.
Jenna counted the strokes. Fifty on each side, every night, for the last eight years. Since before the storm. Since before she was miserable.
After the storm, there was no family left for her. She wouldn't move for days after the disaster. She wouldn't speak for months. But somehow, she made it through. Not unscathed, for she was scarred beyond what the people of Vale could understand. Except for one. The one she had had to turn back for, to pull out of the darkness, when she had crawled out by herself.
Isaac, who couldn't speak for two years after the accident.
Accident. Pshah.
That had been planned, by gods or men, she knew not. A sadistic joke in fate's mind, sitting there, for who knows how long. Yes, yes, good fun to cull off the family of a fourteen year old girl and oh, let's kill her best friend's father as well. Lotsa laughs, eh?
Fifty. Time for the right side.
She had dwelled on the past for to long. It was starting to harden her.
On the inside, of course. The very core of her, the part that hurt the most, was becoming stone. Cold, hard, dreary, rock. A rock with a girl's face painted on. With her body, and inside, the crystals of her dreams and wishes, secret desires and hopes that she had shared with noone.
Come to think of it, she had never met a girl her age. Isaac and Garet were nice, but they couldn't really understand her that well. Garet was clueless, and if Isaac had any notion of what was going on in her head, he was silent.
In her mind, she designed a girl, one her age. Not that tall. Long hair, long as hers. A different color, softer, bluish, maybe. Paler than her, better at Psynergy than her, but less physical strong. A healer, like Isaac. Someone who could tell off Garet without fear of his size.
Jenna stopped.
Someday, she'd go out in the world and find a girl like that, or better. A friend, unlike either of the two boys.
Jenna tried to think of them without her. What if she had died on that platform? Would anyone miss her? Like Isaac missed his father, Dora missed her husband? Like she missed her family? Would anything change? She tried to recall what major things she had done to change their lives.
In Garet's life, she stood in the background, until a few months ago, when he noticed her. And not really noticed her as a friend, but as a girl, someone with the body and necessary organs to raise a child. This wasn't bad, but it annoyed her to no end that he wouldn't stop being entirely stupid around her.
Isaac . . . Isaac would've spoken again, even without her presence, although, maybe, the loss of a friend would've also hindered it. He was really the better of the two friends. Even as he was speechless with grief, he understood her pain, even if he couldn't understand her. And he wasn't idiotic while in her presence.
Jenna was not truly alone, but she had noone, except the girl she had imagined.
She had long since stopped counting the strokes. She set down the brush, and walked to her window, sitting calmly. Jenna peered through the curtains.
Felix had once told her that, on the night of her birth, he and their father saw a star shoot across the sky. He knew at once that she would be a fire-Adept, although he was an earth-Adept and her mother a water-Adept.
Little starfire, he called her. Noone called her that anymore. Except the memories of her family. And once, in a wild dream, where someone understood.