Parched Emotion
By Demon Squirrel
It was a warm, dry evening. The sky was slowly turning from its magnificent blue to pink as the suns began to set. Tall shadows rose off the buildings and onto the quiet, fairly remote and peaceful streets of Neptune. It was a rather large town, but not quite big enough to call itself a city. Children played in the streets while their mothers called them inside for dinner and men closed up their stores and shops. Night was slowly creeping upon them. Piano music could be heard on the streets, coming from a dreary old saloon. Inside there was a few people scattered around tables, minding their own business. The saloon doors opened, and a dark man walked inside.
"Ah, there he is."
A solemn man wearing a red jacket sat all alone at the bar. He had pale skin and short blonde hair, with yellow sunglasses covering his eyes. His hands gripped onto a glass of golden beer sitting on the counter in front of him. He seemed to be deep in thought. Wolfwood walked up to him. "You okay?" he asked softly.
Vash took a timid sip of his beer, "I dunno." Wolfwood sat down next to Vash.
"It's about today, isn't it?"
"You could say that."
"Vash, you know it wasn't your fault..." Wolfwood tried to sound supportive. He knew how his friend felt, and he hadn't gone uneffected, especially because it was a kid. But he was use to this sort of thing.
Vash cringed and sunk deeper into his self hatred and disgust. He was being haunted. He barley had a second to himself before he was reminded of that little girl's face. His hands shook the glass he held until he gave it up to Wolfwood, deciding he wasn't thirsty. He put his head down on the counter.
"Boy do you look pathetic. A grown man, acting like a six year old boy who lost his pet dog." He watched Vash, waiting for a response. Vash stared blankly at Wolfwood, looking at nothing in particular, his glasses still hiding his sorrowful eyes. They hurt. His eyes were sore and dry. He had cried for a long time that afternoon. The girl was eating him up inside. Wolfwood took a sip of the abandoned beverage, and sighed. He read the labels of the liquor bottle aligned on the shelves in front of him. Finally, he received a response.
"Does no one understand death?"
Wolfwood looked over at him with a smirk on his face. "Well being a man of the cloth I believe people have many different ways of looking at death. Some believe death brings enlightenment, reincarnation, most feel there's an after life... heaven, hell..." Wolfwood paused. "Personally, I believe there's a better place after this one."
"No one grasps the concept of death like I do." Vash murmured.
"Yea, how so?" Wolfwood inquired. Vash was silent for a moment, collecting his thoughts. He adjusted himself so his head was resting on his arms. Wolfwood leaned his elbows on the counter.
"No... no one really gets death. Everyone has these different ideas, hopes of what comes when you separate from this world, and then they base their ways of life off of this. These ideas then begin to separate people, shun people, when it all really comes down to the fact that they're all scared. All their hopes are really pointless. To be blunt, there's nothing after death. You separate from this world, and you never see your loved ones again. You don't get to exist anymore. No more enjoyment of simple things, eating, sleeping, playing with kids, hearing a good joke. This becomes no longer you concern. You can't even be allowed to miss those things. When you are dead, you can't sit back and indulge yourself in memories, or contact other deceased's. If you have ever been unconscious, you can't realize you were unconscious until after you wake up. But even then, you can only remember up till the point that you blacked out. Once you wake up, you know what happened. To never wake up from that is death. And once you die, you fall out of existence." Vash's voice broke. He stopped talking and bit his tongue. He shouldn't be sharing this. This was his personal thoughts; he had no right to share them with this priest. It was all too depressing anyway. He watched Wolfwood take in all that was said from behind his yellow tinted glasses.
"Fall out of existence...." Nicholas said quietly. Vash felt an urge to explain.
"When you're dead, you lack the ability to remember yourself. The people who are still alive have that duty. They are the only people left to verify that you lived. By now you can't even say you did live. You're not allowed to look back. So, you're born, you grow up, then you die. And people verify you lived by their memories of you. But what happens when those people die too. Who's left to verify that you ever existed? This is when you become lost. This is an example of our insignificances in this tiny little existence. After that it's just a chain of deaths. Once the human population dies out, who is there to verify that we even existed?"
"If a tree falls in the woods, and no ones around to hear it, does it make a sound?" Wolfwood suggested the source of Vash's speech.
"Basically. That is why I feel life is so important. This is the only we chance we get. After this, it's gone, over, so we gotta enjoy every minute. And to take away someone else's chance to live is entirely cruel. Or so that's what I think." There was a long pause. Wolfwood stared off. Vash took off his glasses and hid his face in his arms, ashamed. He felt tears burn in his eyes and drip down his nose. He didn't look up when Wolfwood called his name. Then Vash saw it again.
"That... that little girl..." Vash sobbed. Wolfwood stared down at the poor emotional wretch known as Vash the Stampede. Slumped over a barroom counter, crying. But Nicholas sympathized with him. It was really tragic what happened...
They had been walking all morning, when Vash, Wolfwood, Millie and Meryl found themselves on the outskirts of town. Little did they know two men were following them. Once in town the group decided to rent some rooms in a hotel and go somewhere to eat. They had breakfast at a quaint little restaurant, run by a sweet little family. It was a cute young couple, with a daughter who was turning six in a week. After giving their orders to the young lady, soon to be six year old Emily came to their table and began small conversations with each of them, as energetic little children do. Soon the food was ready and devoured. Millie sat with Wolfwood, watching Vash listen to the child ramble on proudly about a drawing she had made of a thomas with a blue crayon.
"You must be quite the artist." Vash replied to the cheerful girl. Her carefree energy brightened Vash's heart. In the girl's excitement, she decided to go into the backroom to find her drawing to show Vash and the priest.
"What a cute kid." Millie exclaimed with a smile on her face.
"Yea..." Meryl agreed. "Well, you guys sit here, I'll go pay for our meal," she said as she stood up and walked around the corner. Then something terrible happened. Two men covered in dust with red bandanas around their mouths walked into the restaurant. They walked in slowly, eyes shifting around the room. Their eyes grew wide eyed when they saw Vash. Vash caught their expressions and ducked as they pulled out their guns. Vash kicked the table up to block his friends from the bullets. Wolfwood grabbed Millie and pulled her behind the table. The men stopped shooting and waited for the dust to clear.
"Oh Mr. Humanoid Typhoon, I think you better come with us, before someone gets hurt" one man said tauntingly.
"Yea, someone like you." the other one snickered. Thinking hard, Vash tried to get the bounty hunters to leave. He quickly pulled out his hand gun, peeped around the side of the table, and shot at both the bounty hunter's guns. Both men jumped back, and Vash leaped from behind, hoping they'd follow him out of the restaurant. But things didn't go as planned. Vash ran towards the door, and one gunman aimed towards his fleeing target. Out of no where came Emily with a piece of paper clutched in her tiny hand. She ran right in front of Vash, startling him. Vash tripped and fell forward. He heard a gunshot ring out before he hit the floor. He landed with a hard thud. Something warm caressed his cheek. Vash opened his eyes to see he was lying in a puddle of blood. But it wasn't his blood. It was the girl's. Her body lay motionless in the red pool of liquid. The bounty hunters freaked out when they saw they hit the girl and ran like cowards. Vash stared at the girl's body. She was dead. A horrible feeling of remorse and pain came over Vash. Guilt raped his heart. He glanced at the white piece of paper lying just out of the reaches of the blood. He slowly lifted himself from the floor and picked up the paper. Scribbled on the paper was a blue thomas.
"Vash..." Meryl called out. Vash looked up, stared at Meryl standing with Wolfwood and Millie. He heard the footsteps of the girl's parents coming. Nausea came over him, Vash ran out of the restaurant in a panic.
Wolfwood sighed. It was really a shame what happened. The little girl, caught in the crossfire of man's greed. Yet Vash acts like it was his fault. Wolfwood pulled the glass of beer he held to his lips and took a long sip. Vash decided he should take his misery elsewhere, he felt like he wasted too much of Wolfwood's time already. He stood up.
"Now where are you going?" Wolfwood asked.
"I'm going to get some rest. I'll see you in the morning." Vash said as he left into the night. Wolfwood sighed and pulled out a cigarette and lit a match.
"Poor guy never gets a break." he mumbled. He put out the match with a flick of his wrist, and pulled in a deep breath. A small piece of paper caught his eye. It was where Vash had been sitting. He picked up the paper and studied it long time, before asking the bartender to hang it up on the wall. The bartender gave him a weird look, but was a nice guy and didn't mind thumb tacking the drawing of a blue thomas to the shelf wall.
"There" Nicholas smiled. "Now Emily will be remembered."
It was a warm, dry evening. The sky was slowly turning from its magnificent blue to pink as the suns began to set. Tall shadows rose off the buildings and onto the quiet, fairly remote and peaceful streets of Neptune. It was a rather large town, but not quite big enough to call itself a city. Children played in the streets while their mothers called them inside for dinner and men closed up their stores and shops. Night was slowly creeping upon them. Piano music could be heard on the streets, coming from a dreary old saloon. Inside there was a few people scattered around tables, minding their own business. The saloon doors opened, and a dark man walked inside.
"Ah, there he is."
A solemn man wearing a red jacket sat all alone at the bar. He had pale skin and short blonde hair, with yellow sunglasses covering his eyes. His hands gripped onto a glass of golden beer sitting on the counter in front of him. He seemed to be deep in thought. Wolfwood walked up to him. "You okay?" he asked softly.
Vash took a timid sip of his beer, "I dunno." Wolfwood sat down next to Vash.
"It's about today, isn't it?"
"You could say that."
"Vash, you know it wasn't your fault..." Wolfwood tried to sound supportive. He knew how his friend felt, and he hadn't gone uneffected, especially because it was a kid. But he was use to this sort of thing.
Vash cringed and sunk deeper into his self hatred and disgust. He was being haunted. He barley had a second to himself before he was reminded of that little girl's face. His hands shook the glass he held until he gave it up to Wolfwood, deciding he wasn't thirsty. He put his head down on the counter.
"Boy do you look pathetic. A grown man, acting like a six year old boy who lost his pet dog." He watched Vash, waiting for a response. Vash stared blankly at Wolfwood, looking at nothing in particular, his glasses still hiding his sorrowful eyes. They hurt. His eyes were sore and dry. He had cried for a long time that afternoon. The girl was eating him up inside. Wolfwood took a sip of the abandoned beverage, and sighed. He read the labels of the liquor bottle aligned on the shelves in front of him. Finally, he received a response.
"Does no one understand death?"
Wolfwood looked over at him with a smirk on his face. "Well being a man of the cloth I believe people have many different ways of looking at death. Some believe death brings enlightenment, reincarnation, most feel there's an after life... heaven, hell..." Wolfwood paused. "Personally, I believe there's a better place after this one."
"No one grasps the concept of death like I do." Vash murmured.
"Yea, how so?" Wolfwood inquired. Vash was silent for a moment, collecting his thoughts. He adjusted himself so his head was resting on his arms. Wolfwood leaned his elbows on the counter.
"No... no one really gets death. Everyone has these different ideas, hopes of what comes when you separate from this world, and then they base their ways of life off of this. These ideas then begin to separate people, shun people, when it all really comes down to the fact that they're all scared. All their hopes are really pointless. To be blunt, there's nothing after death. You separate from this world, and you never see your loved ones again. You don't get to exist anymore. No more enjoyment of simple things, eating, sleeping, playing with kids, hearing a good joke. This becomes no longer you concern. You can't even be allowed to miss those things. When you are dead, you can't sit back and indulge yourself in memories, or contact other deceased's. If you have ever been unconscious, you can't realize you were unconscious until after you wake up. But even then, you can only remember up till the point that you blacked out. Once you wake up, you know what happened. To never wake up from that is death. And once you die, you fall out of existence." Vash's voice broke. He stopped talking and bit his tongue. He shouldn't be sharing this. This was his personal thoughts; he had no right to share them with this priest. It was all too depressing anyway. He watched Wolfwood take in all that was said from behind his yellow tinted glasses.
"Fall out of existence...." Nicholas said quietly. Vash felt an urge to explain.
"When you're dead, you lack the ability to remember yourself. The people who are still alive have that duty. They are the only people left to verify that you lived. By now you can't even say you did live. You're not allowed to look back. So, you're born, you grow up, then you die. And people verify you lived by their memories of you. But what happens when those people die too. Who's left to verify that you ever existed? This is when you become lost. This is an example of our insignificances in this tiny little existence. After that it's just a chain of deaths. Once the human population dies out, who is there to verify that we even existed?"
"If a tree falls in the woods, and no ones around to hear it, does it make a sound?" Wolfwood suggested the source of Vash's speech.
"Basically. That is why I feel life is so important. This is the only we chance we get. After this, it's gone, over, so we gotta enjoy every minute. And to take away someone else's chance to live is entirely cruel. Or so that's what I think." There was a long pause. Wolfwood stared off. Vash took off his glasses and hid his face in his arms, ashamed. He felt tears burn in his eyes and drip down his nose. He didn't look up when Wolfwood called his name. Then Vash saw it again.
"That... that little girl..." Vash sobbed. Wolfwood stared down at the poor emotional wretch known as Vash the Stampede. Slumped over a barroom counter, crying. But Nicholas sympathized with him. It was really tragic what happened...
They had been walking all morning, when Vash, Wolfwood, Millie and Meryl found themselves on the outskirts of town. Little did they know two men were following them. Once in town the group decided to rent some rooms in a hotel and go somewhere to eat. They had breakfast at a quaint little restaurant, run by a sweet little family. It was a cute young couple, with a daughter who was turning six in a week. After giving their orders to the young lady, soon to be six year old Emily came to their table and began small conversations with each of them, as energetic little children do. Soon the food was ready and devoured. Millie sat with Wolfwood, watching Vash listen to the child ramble on proudly about a drawing she had made of a thomas with a blue crayon.
"You must be quite the artist." Vash replied to the cheerful girl. Her carefree energy brightened Vash's heart. In the girl's excitement, she decided to go into the backroom to find her drawing to show Vash and the priest.
"What a cute kid." Millie exclaimed with a smile on her face.
"Yea..." Meryl agreed. "Well, you guys sit here, I'll go pay for our meal," she said as she stood up and walked around the corner. Then something terrible happened. Two men covered in dust with red bandanas around their mouths walked into the restaurant. They walked in slowly, eyes shifting around the room. Their eyes grew wide eyed when they saw Vash. Vash caught their expressions and ducked as they pulled out their guns. Vash kicked the table up to block his friends from the bullets. Wolfwood grabbed Millie and pulled her behind the table. The men stopped shooting and waited for the dust to clear.
"Oh Mr. Humanoid Typhoon, I think you better come with us, before someone gets hurt" one man said tauntingly.
"Yea, someone like you." the other one snickered. Thinking hard, Vash tried to get the bounty hunters to leave. He quickly pulled out his hand gun, peeped around the side of the table, and shot at both the bounty hunter's guns. Both men jumped back, and Vash leaped from behind, hoping they'd follow him out of the restaurant. But things didn't go as planned. Vash ran towards the door, and one gunman aimed towards his fleeing target. Out of no where came Emily with a piece of paper clutched in her tiny hand. She ran right in front of Vash, startling him. Vash tripped and fell forward. He heard a gunshot ring out before he hit the floor. He landed with a hard thud. Something warm caressed his cheek. Vash opened his eyes to see he was lying in a puddle of blood. But it wasn't his blood. It was the girl's. Her body lay motionless in the red pool of liquid. The bounty hunters freaked out when they saw they hit the girl and ran like cowards. Vash stared at the girl's body. She was dead. A horrible feeling of remorse and pain came over Vash. Guilt raped his heart. He glanced at the white piece of paper lying just out of the reaches of the blood. He slowly lifted himself from the floor and picked up the paper. Scribbled on the paper was a blue thomas.
"Vash..." Meryl called out. Vash looked up, stared at Meryl standing with Wolfwood and Millie. He heard the footsteps of the girl's parents coming. Nausea came over him, Vash ran out of the restaurant in a panic.
Wolfwood sighed. It was really a shame what happened. The little girl, caught in the crossfire of man's greed. Yet Vash acts like it was his fault. Wolfwood pulled the glass of beer he held to his lips and took a long sip. Vash decided he should take his misery elsewhere, he felt like he wasted too much of Wolfwood's time already. He stood up.
"Now where are you going?" Wolfwood asked.
"I'm going to get some rest. I'll see you in the morning." Vash said as he left into the night. Wolfwood sighed and pulled out a cigarette and lit a match.
"Poor guy never gets a break." he mumbled. He put out the match with a flick of his wrist, and pulled in a deep breath. A small piece of paper caught his eye. It was where Vash had been sitting. He picked up the paper and studied it long time, before asking the bartender to hang it up on the wall. The bartender gave him a weird look, but was a nice guy and didn't mind thumb tacking the drawing of a blue thomas to the shelf wall.
"There" Nicholas smiled. "Now Emily will be remembered."