A/N: Thanks to UKHoneyB, twin*muse, nattie700, pixiefairie6783,
Snowman1, MyAlias, AnnaSun, Glittering Pegasus, mm, glitter fish,
jennycraig10, and Egyptian Kat for the reviews. They mean a lot to me,
and I thank you for taking time to do it!
Same song and dance. Tell me if you like it or hate it please.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter 4
Purple.
As Sydney came out her flashback, she attempted in vain to savor the wave of warmth that had washed over her body.
Her body.
Sydney's eyes ventured a glance down, praying for the slimmest chance that she was well and healthy. She couldn't have been farther from the truth. Her once graceful frame was bruised and battered to a violent shade of violet. The once ivory, soft skin was now caked with dried blood and swelling with infection.
Gruesome as it was, those bruises told the story of her existence. They were her life now, her trophies of the endless war she waged with herself and with life. Those purple patches of pain were all that was left of her reality.
Was reality always this painful?
Or are we all just ignorant of what is "real?" Marionettes in a merciless play of pseudo-life, doomed forever to act out redundant roles? Maybe pain was the only reality, reverberating throughout mind, soul, and body.
After all, joy, rage, jealousy, pity, contentment were only a stimulation of the nerves. Mechanical reasons. False.
Purple pains.
************************************ Sydney was in the backyard gardening. As of two weeks ago, she had moved out of the apartment into a quaint, cozy home with maroon shutters and a path of steeping stones leading up to the front door.
By the back door hung a wind chime, singing its merry song in the spring breeze.
A back door. For the first time, she actually had a back door, something substantial behind the façade of deception. Here, in the backyard, she could pour out her soul. Her self.
Flowers. The epitome of every girl's childhood dream: to walk in a meadow full of pansies, daffodils, lilacs, and hyacinth. To gather armfuls of tulips, orchids, and marigolds. To let the faint, fragrant scent of the all-powerful rose grace the air around you.
And so Sydney poured her heart out into her childhood fantasy.
She sowed seeds of sunflowers and buttercups. She grew rows of violets and lilies, tended clusters of gladiolas and snapdragons.
Sydney grew a rainbow of life.
So as she was about to plant the irises, a familiar silhouette approached her from behind. She turned around and gazed into the friendly, familiar eyes of Will.
"Hey Will!" Syd chirped cheerfully.
"What's up, Syd?" replied Will in his good-natured way.
"Nothing much. Ya wanna give me a hand with these flowers over here?"
"Sure, why not? It's a great day to be outside."
"Yeah. Here. Take a spade and well, dig in!"
They made small talk about the weather for a while. Neither of them noticed how much time had gone by; the sun hung low in the sky about to make its dive from the heavens into the sea.
Sydney was bent over, concentrating hard on getting the niche dug for the final iris to plant.
She never saw it coming.
One minute she was pushing and pulling dirt. The next she was out cold as the feeling of a cool needle slid in and out of her skin. All she could do was look up into the eyes of Will with a look of utter despair and perplexity.
He just laughed wickedly and said, "You know, for a spy, you sure have some trust issues. If you can't speak openly with your parents, then why do you pour your heart out to strangers? I can't believe you didn't get suspicious every time I nosed my way into things with my pestering questions! But you were too preoccupied with your other life to notice now, weren't you? Well, I got news for you, babe, you only live once.and you only have one life. The spy life."
By now the sun had almost sunk into oblivion, casting its final departing streaks of amethyst across the sky.
As Will dragged her body out to the standardized black van, he sneered, "Hey, Syd? Guess what? You're human, and ignorant like all the other."
******************************** Ignorant. God knows how long she'd been stuck here in this cell.
It was all just one big play. One big misconception.
But she was awake now, and she saw the sea of purple pain that swam before her eyes.
The last iris never did get planted.
A/N: ???????
Same song and dance. Tell me if you like it or hate it please.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter 4
Purple.
As Sydney came out her flashback, she attempted in vain to savor the wave of warmth that had washed over her body.
Her body.
Sydney's eyes ventured a glance down, praying for the slimmest chance that she was well and healthy. She couldn't have been farther from the truth. Her once graceful frame was bruised and battered to a violent shade of violet. The once ivory, soft skin was now caked with dried blood and swelling with infection.
Gruesome as it was, those bruises told the story of her existence. They were her life now, her trophies of the endless war she waged with herself and with life. Those purple patches of pain were all that was left of her reality.
Was reality always this painful?
Or are we all just ignorant of what is "real?" Marionettes in a merciless play of pseudo-life, doomed forever to act out redundant roles? Maybe pain was the only reality, reverberating throughout mind, soul, and body.
After all, joy, rage, jealousy, pity, contentment were only a stimulation of the nerves. Mechanical reasons. False.
Purple pains.
************************************ Sydney was in the backyard gardening. As of two weeks ago, she had moved out of the apartment into a quaint, cozy home with maroon shutters and a path of steeping stones leading up to the front door.
By the back door hung a wind chime, singing its merry song in the spring breeze.
A back door. For the first time, she actually had a back door, something substantial behind the façade of deception. Here, in the backyard, she could pour out her soul. Her self.
Flowers. The epitome of every girl's childhood dream: to walk in a meadow full of pansies, daffodils, lilacs, and hyacinth. To gather armfuls of tulips, orchids, and marigolds. To let the faint, fragrant scent of the all-powerful rose grace the air around you.
And so Sydney poured her heart out into her childhood fantasy.
She sowed seeds of sunflowers and buttercups. She grew rows of violets and lilies, tended clusters of gladiolas and snapdragons.
Sydney grew a rainbow of life.
So as she was about to plant the irises, a familiar silhouette approached her from behind. She turned around and gazed into the friendly, familiar eyes of Will.
"Hey Will!" Syd chirped cheerfully.
"What's up, Syd?" replied Will in his good-natured way.
"Nothing much. Ya wanna give me a hand with these flowers over here?"
"Sure, why not? It's a great day to be outside."
"Yeah. Here. Take a spade and well, dig in!"
They made small talk about the weather for a while. Neither of them noticed how much time had gone by; the sun hung low in the sky about to make its dive from the heavens into the sea.
Sydney was bent over, concentrating hard on getting the niche dug for the final iris to plant.
She never saw it coming.
One minute she was pushing and pulling dirt. The next she was out cold as the feeling of a cool needle slid in and out of her skin. All she could do was look up into the eyes of Will with a look of utter despair and perplexity.
He just laughed wickedly and said, "You know, for a spy, you sure have some trust issues. If you can't speak openly with your parents, then why do you pour your heart out to strangers? I can't believe you didn't get suspicious every time I nosed my way into things with my pestering questions! But you were too preoccupied with your other life to notice now, weren't you? Well, I got news for you, babe, you only live once.and you only have one life. The spy life."
By now the sun had almost sunk into oblivion, casting its final departing streaks of amethyst across the sky.
As Will dragged her body out to the standardized black van, he sneered, "Hey, Syd? Guess what? You're human, and ignorant like all the other."
******************************** Ignorant. God knows how long she'd been stuck here in this cell.
It was all just one big play. One big misconception.
But she was awake now, and she saw the sea of purple pain that swam before her eyes.
The last iris never did get planted.
A/N: ???????