The Living Dream
By: Rena Cresten
Chapter 6
Rated: PG
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of Sailor Moon, don't claim to. I don't own Crystal Tokyo, don't claim that either. But the story itself is mine. So please don't use it for anything without asking me first.
**********************
I sat perfectly still for a moment, the breeze playing with my hair in tiny wisps. The city was bright, and music played somewhere in the background. The stars in the skies seemed to twinkle brighter than they had any night since I could remember. The moon was full tonight, though it had barely risen over the horizon, all of its light could hardly be matched by the brilliance of my city.
She couldn't tell me.
I shook my head, the moment ruined. Returning to my world, falling to earth from my fanciful journey through the night. The city still blazed as if on fire, the stars still winked at me, the moon was still just above the horizon, but my room was dark and empty.
She couldn't tell me.
Hadn't I a friend in the world? Couldn't even Lita have stuck by me? Can't I have at least one break in this life?
I blinked back tears that threatened to fall from red rimmed eyes. Nothing that hadn't happened before tonight. But I tried to hold them back, failed, tried again, and succeeded. Tonight would be a night of discoveries. I knew that, even as I pulled on a pair of ragged old blue jeans and a beaten T-shirt.
I had seen this style worn the last time I had been into my city, it had been hidden from me as best as it could. And even as I road about in my carriage and stared at the crowds of happy, healthy people I knew something wasn't right. They had hidden all pain from my eyes, and they had done it very well. But I saw a child, the poor thing stringy and looking beaten, wearing clothes that wouldn't even be called rags. My heart had gone out to her, for as soon as she had noticed herself being watched ... she had run.
Tonight I would truly see my people. Tonight I would truly understand.
I picked up a knife and stuck it into my old boot, tying up the boot a little tighter. I wasn't going to be as helpless as I felt.
I smudged some dirt into my hair, a little grease at the top and brushed it in. Messing up my hair after that. I picked up the ends off the floor. No matter how many times I cut it, it always seemed to be sitting on the ground. I took my scissors and cut it to just above my butt, reminding myself of Mina. I messed up my hair a bit more and put some dirt on my arms and face. I certainly looked like someone out of the slums.
Walking over to the edge of my balcony, I stared down into the gardens with a feeling of dread that had been building for days now. I knew, deep down that I was going to find exactly what I was suppose to be fighting against.
I tugged on the rope one more time to make sure it was secure after all this time without use, then swung over and shimmied down towards the ground. Once there I checked for anyone around.
Not a soul.
I pulled the rope back so that it hung against the wall, and pushed a hidden button that had been installed back when my love had been alive, as had this personal form of escape. I could just hope it had been forgotten completely and not dissembled at the ground. When the rope disappeared into the wall I felt a ray of hope that lasted only a second, but it was worth it. The thought flashed through my mind that perhaps this was how my love had come to me those nights before, but as soon as it came it was gone. Taking a last look around, I ran hell bent through the gardens.
Oddly feeling that I was mimicking my husband, I glanced about. And found that the rout he had taken was indeed the rout I took now.
I softly clicked the door behind me, the outer wall now bypassed. I was free, outside the protection of crystal walls and armed guards. The world was real, I suddenly felt real. Life hadn't really been lived inside those walls, hadn't even really existed. But now, I was alive, I was living.
Serena.
I was my old self again. I was that little girl who loved bunnies and video games and life.
I was happy.
I felt joy.
I took off at a steady pace towards the lights of the city. Though the light didn't seem to really reach the streets. This confused me. Hadn't the lights come from the streets and the roof tops? Why aren't the streets lit now?
I felt melancholy, a wave of nausea roaming my insides. Life out here was all a show. Nothing had happened. I hadn't really helped at all. Nothing I had done in the past months really happened. It was all simply papers. Only words.
They hadn't even really respected you.
Everyone had simply strung me along. Like some simple puppet, some idiot under a crown.
Anger.
Furious Anger.
I clenched my fists and began walking faster. I felt energized, like I could heal the world all over again. I could take on the world all by myself. Nothing would ever stop me from helping my people!! NOTHING!!!
Crying.
Someone was crying.
No.
A child was crying.
I stopped my tirade dead. I listened ... to my left. My feet began moving before I even realized what I was doing. The crying got closer. I began to run, stopping only to listen for directions.
A little girl, hair ragged and skin black with dirt. She couldn't be more than six. And she was stuck in the back of an alley, what looked like a gang closing in around her. Knives drawn, scowls on their faces. I heard one of them ask where her father was.
"Stay away from her." My voice was unforgiving. I hardly recognized it myself, I had never heard such iciness in my own words. They turned to look at me, the biggest of them all speaking with an accent I had never heard before.
"And who are you, little toy."
Anger filled me once more, stronger than I had ever felt before.
"Her mother." I didn't know what I was saying. I wasn't her mother! But it got their attention, no if-ands-or-buts about it.
"Than you must know where her bastard father is, eh?" The shortest waved a knife in my face as he spoke, looking me up and down. Probably imagining me without my baggy shirt and tattered jeans.
"Of course. But I won't tell you ... voluntarily." Their eyes lit with fire and passion. It seems I hadn't lost my touch, or my will to win after all.
They advanced, I stood still.
They drew their weapons, I remained unarmed.
They licked their lips, I kept impassive.
They attacked, I fought back instantly.
Training whirled through my brain. Kicks went flying, punches cracked jaws, flips sent men flying into walls. Minutes passed and, when I should have tired, I felt more invigorated. They tried to fight back, but I had so many years up on them that it wasn't really a fight. I sent them off with a cold glare, reminding them of the consequences should they come back.
The little girl, when I looked back, was hidden behind a corner of the wall. Her large eyes looked so much like mine, only they seemed to shine a reddish type color. Her dirty hair could have been black for as caked as it was in dirt. I kneeled down, offering a hand out to her.
She stared at it like it would bite her if she touched it.
"I won't hurt you. What's you name?"
She took a few steps towards me and placed her tiny hand in mine.
"Serena. It's my Mommy's name. But my Daddy calls me Rini." Her voice was tiny. Yet for someone as young as she certainly was, she spoke perfect grammar. Odd to see that in a little girl, but who was I ... to ... judge ...
Serena?
Mommy?
By: Rena Cresten
Chapter 6
Rated: PG
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of Sailor Moon, don't claim to. I don't own Crystal Tokyo, don't claim that either. But the story itself is mine. So please don't use it for anything without asking me first.
**********************
I sat perfectly still for a moment, the breeze playing with my hair in tiny wisps. The city was bright, and music played somewhere in the background. The stars in the skies seemed to twinkle brighter than they had any night since I could remember. The moon was full tonight, though it had barely risen over the horizon, all of its light could hardly be matched by the brilliance of my city.
She couldn't tell me.
I shook my head, the moment ruined. Returning to my world, falling to earth from my fanciful journey through the night. The city still blazed as if on fire, the stars still winked at me, the moon was still just above the horizon, but my room was dark and empty.
She couldn't tell me.
Hadn't I a friend in the world? Couldn't even Lita have stuck by me? Can't I have at least one break in this life?
I blinked back tears that threatened to fall from red rimmed eyes. Nothing that hadn't happened before tonight. But I tried to hold them back, failed, tried again, and succeeded. Tonight would be a night of discoveries. I knew that, even as I pulled on a pair of ragged old blue jeans and a beaten T-shirt.
I had seen this style worn the last time I had been into my city, it had been hidden from me as best as it could. And even as I road about in my carriage and stared at the crowds of happy, healthy people I knew something wasn't right. They had hidden all pain from my eyes, and they had done it very well. But I saw a child, the poor thing stringy and looking beaten, wearing clothes that wouldn't even be called rags. My heart had gone out to her, for as soon as she had noticed herself being watched ... she had run.
Tonight I would truly see my people. Tonight I would truly understand.
I picked up a knife and stuck it into my old boot, tying up the boot a little tighter. I wasn't going to be as helpless as I felt.
I smudged some dirt into my hair, a little grease at the top and brushed it in. Messing up my hair after that. I picked up the ends off the floor. No matter how many times I cut it, it always seemed to be sitting on the ground. I took my scissors and cut it to just above my butt, reminding myself of Mina. I messed up my hair a bit more and put some dirt on my arms and face. I certainly looked like someone out of the slums.
Walking over to the edge of my balcony, I stared down into the gardens with a feeling of dread that had been building for days now. I knew, deep down that I was going to find exactly what I was suppose to be fighting against.
I tugged on the rope one more time to make sure it was secure after all this time without use, then swung over and shimmied down towards the ground. Once there I checked for anyone around.
Not a soul.
I pulled the rope back so that it hung against the wall, and pushed a hidden button that had been installed back when my love had been alive, as had this personal form of escape. I could just hope it had been forgotten completely and not dissembled at the ground. When the rope disappeared into the wall I felt a ray of hope that lasted only a second, but it was worth it. The thought flashed through my mind that perhaps this was how my love had come to me those nights before, but as soon as it came it was gone. Taking a last look around, I ran hell bent through the gardens.
Oddly feeling that I was mimicking my husband, I glanced about. And found that the rout he had taken was indeed the rout I took now.
I softly clicked the door behind me, the outer wall now bypassed. I was free, outside the protection of crystal walls and armed guards. The world was real, I suddenly felt real. Life hadn't really been lived inside those walls, hadn't even really existed. But now, I was alive, I was living.
Serena.
I was my old self again. I was that little girl who loved bunnies and video games and life.
I was happy.
I felt joy.
I took off at a steady pace towards the lights of the city. Though the light didn't seem to really reach the streets. This confused me. Hadn't the lights come from the streets and the roof tops? Why aren't the streets lit now?
I felt melancholy, a wave of nausea roaming my insides. Life out here was all a show. Nothing had happened. I hadn't really helped at all. Nothing I had done in the past months really happened. It was all simply papers. Only words.
They hadn't even really respected you.
Everyone had simply strung me along. Like some simple puppet, some idiot under a crown.
Anger.
Furious Anger.
I clenched my fists and began walking faster. I felt energized, like I could heal the world all over again. I could take on the world all by myself. Nothing would ever stop me from helping my people!! NOTHING!!!
Crying.
Someone was crying.
No.
A child was crying.
I stopped my tirade dead. I listened ... to my left. My feet began moving before I even realized what I was doing. The crying got closer. I began to run, stopping only to listen for directions.
A little girl, hair ragged and skin black with dirt. She couldn't be more than six. And she was stuck in the back of an alley, what looked like a gang closing in around her. Knives drawn, scowls on their faces. I heard one of them ask where her father was.
"Stay away from her." My voice was unforgiving. I hardly recognized it myself, I had never heard such iciness in my own words. They turned to look at me, the biggest of them all speaking with an accent I had never heard before.
"And who are you, little toy."
Anger filled me once more, stronger than I had ever felt before.
"Her mother." I didn't know what I was saying. I wasn't her mother! But it got their attention, no if-ands-or-buts about it.
"Than you must know where her bastard father is, eh?" The shortest waved a knife in my face as he spoke, looking me up and down. Probably imagining me without my baggy shirt and tattered jeans.
"Of course. But I won't tell you ... voluntarily." Their eyes lit with fire and passion. It seems I hadn't lost my touch, or my will to win after all.
They advanced, I stood still.
They drew their weapons, I remained unarmed.
They licked their lips, I kept impassive.
They attacked, I fought back instantly.
Training whirled through my brain. Kicks went flying, punches cracked jaws, flips sent men flying into walls. Minutes passed and, when I should have tired, I felt more invigorated. They tried to fight back, but I had so many years up on them that it wasn't really a fight. I sent them off with a cold glare, reminding them of the consequences should they come back.
The little girl, when I looked back, was hidden behind a corner of the wall. Her large eyes looked so much like mine, only they seemed to shine a reddish type color. Her dirty hair could have been black for as caked as it was in dirt. I kneeled down, offering a hand out to her.
She stared at it like it would bite her if she touched it.
"I won't hurt you. What's you name?"
She took a few steps towards me and placed her tiny hand in mine.
"Serena. It's my Mommy's name. But my Daddy calls me Rini." Her voice was tiny. Yet for someone as young as she certainly was, she spoke perfect grammar. Odd to see that in a little girl, but who was I ... to ... judge ...
Serena?
Mommy?