Okay a change in tense and point of view… but I think it adds something… maybe not… maybe it's just me… If you don't want to see it from Heero's point of view DON'T READ THIS PART! YES, YOU CAN SKIP THIS AND IT WON'T MATTER! Okay, so now that you know that I think it might be safe to say Relena might make an appearance… and it's gonna be scary! So if you're a BIG Relena fan – well, she's playing somewhat of a bad guy's part.
Part 6 In the mind of the child-like Emperor
He left…. He left!
I didn't think he was really going to. I didn't – I don't know what I'm thinking, what I'm supposed to think, as I lean over his manga bag. He said I could look at them while he was gone – but I didn't think he really meant he was leaving!
Gone! And I'm alone… I feel myself trembling. I never knew how much my mind actually depended upon him to keep its sanity in check until I almost didn't have him. I don't remember anything right before or long after my accident, but I do remember him not being there. When he came though! That was all the difference in the world! I may have been in a coma, but I could feel him there. His ever present aura around me as I floated in a endless nothingness.
So now this void – where he's supposed to be – is so empty that it hurt like my heart might cave in. It surprises you to know I have a heart? Surprised me too.
I try and tell myself, mentally, that everything's okay and that I don't need that baka around me twenty-four/seven for me to be okay. With shaky hands my fingers close around one of the slim books as I crawl feebly back to my bed. I don't need his help, see?! Well, even if I don't need him, I want him to come back. I feel a lump rise in my throat at the thought of being left alone in a hospital. The doctors here… they were cold, so cold. It's just like before when I was smaller… Dr. J….
And though I want to complain, I can't. It's as though there is a mental barrier against the rest of the world and myself. I can perfectly understand everything that's going on around me… but I can't talk back; I can't even walk down a hall. I… I want to talk. Every time Duo says that he… that he… I want to reply, I do, but my voice is feeble, none-existent when I need it most. Perhaps it's fallen out from lack of use….
I curl up against the mountains of pillows, not bothering to pull the covers around me. When have I ever been this weak and hopeless? It would make me physically ill to look at myself in the mirror – I'm sure. I don't want to see me.
Gasping back tears that I didn't know I had, I pull myself up. Have you ever noticed when you curl up in a fetal position it's easier to cry? Well, I don't want to cry. Not ever! It's a sign of weakness, and I've shown it more than I ever cared to show it… and to the one person I had hoped I never would.
No, I won't cry, not anymore – he's not here to see it anyway. He's not here… anymore. I… I want him to be here….
No!
Stop!
I won't think about him!
He's the one who left!
I won't cry!
I won't think about it!
If I were to… then I'd…
He said he was coming back. Yes, he said he was. Duo doesn't lie, he can't. Yes, he's coming back; he said so! I'll just read the manga; it'll get my mind away from this thinking.
With trembling fingers I open the book to the first page; the pictures are pretty; I've read it before. Or Duo read it before to me.
It's about a boy, Amos. He was beautiful, just as the artist drew him. But I first knew his appearance from Duo's description. Small build, long white hair, dark golden eyes, long elegant ears (elfin), everything about the boy was breath taking. In every way he was a saint, golden and true.
It was true that he even had a perfect and saintly lover, Angelo, one who's only equal was the boy himself. The exact opposite with black hair, and white-blue eyes, Angelo always stood at Amos' side. They had been made for each other from the same god… so the story says. The god of tender things and perfect love made them for all the world to see how love was meant to be.
And everyone saw and was speechless with warmth and happiness at the two so perfect loves; it was as if the people had actually loved with them, the love was so tangible.
But, as all stories must have a plot, Amos was suddenly infected with a demon. The god of death and morbid hatred had not been pleased with such love existing in the world. He took it upon himself to possess the boy's spirit and pollute Amos and Angelo's very existence.
Amos became violent, killing innocent people and hurting his beloved. He could only be confined in a building with no doors and only a single window. There Angelo watched over his beloved Amos, watched as the boy, having no one else to harm, began hurting himself, tearing at his hair, digging the skin off his very body in his crazed state. Poor Angelo could do nothing to stop the demon inside his Amos from slowly killing the boy. Day by day this grievous sight he watched, and day by day he feel into deeper despair.
Eventually the god of death and morbid hatred tired of seeing that, though he was killing Amos by possessing his body, the love that the boys shared never diminished. Bitterly he pulled back his spirit from the body of the boy, leaving only the shell of the elfin child behind.
Oh, yes, he was alive, but he could no longer speak, see, walk, and, everyone presumed, hear. Angelo, the ever-faithful lover, cared not, keeping a loving watch on his Amos.
In the end, it was said that the shell of Angelo's Amos was nothing more than a burden to him and that was the cause of his early death, soon followed by Amos'.
Wait, was I just a burden to Duo too as Amos was to Angelo? I stare down at the last page in horror. Does he think of me as a burden?
Well, I am, I really am…. I can't talk, I can hardly walk, they think I don't remember anything. That's all I must be to Duo, a burden. A painful deadweight that he must drag along behind him. I don't want to be that – I never want to be that to anyone, especially Duo!
Duo, he's the only one who is able to make me smile. The only one who can make me laugh, even if I don't make it audible. He's the only one who makes me feel alive… really and truly alive! And I would never want to take his life away with me being a burden to him.
I push my feet over the edge of the bed, leaning forward so that I fall off landing on my face on the floor. With ragged breaths, I pull myself up. I refuse to be a burden to him; no one can make me! It takes much of my strength just to reach the door, and I curse my feeble hands as the reach for the doorknob. But surprisingly it turns without much effect on my part, and, as I pull at it, it swings open with such force that I'm knocked down.
I look up, struggling again to get to my feet, and freeze. Every muscle in my body goes tense and I feel my breathing hitch. It's that color, that god-awful color, the one that haunts my dreams awake and in sleep. I try to scream, but my throat is taunt with fear. And I would sooner be able to fly than to scream.
As if knowing my fear all to well and enjoying it immensely, the shadowy brilliance comes toward with all the agile-ness of the wind. Helpless to its evil ways the only thing I can do is scurry backwards, crab walking away from the demonness. Yes, I can tell it's a girl, and that stirs the fear inside me even more so. Girls in themselves must be evil since they wear this color oh so much.
Gods, it tries to touch me, and I feel a scream rip through my throat but it doesn't come out.
It's dark and raining, and I can't see through the thick liquid that has fallen into my eyes. I hear a scream so high pitched that it makes me cringe. Gasping, I try to feel out with my other senses, since seeing is quite out of the question. I'm cold, so cold, and with each breath a sharp pain runs through me as if someone was stabbing me in the side. I'm trembling and I think I'm crying for what else can the moisture that's falling down my cheeks be? I hear the tires of a car skidding and then the sound of it driving away. Am I alone? Here, by myself? It seems clear to me that I won't be seeing any tomorrows. And it surprises me that I'm slightly upset. I would have shook my head, if it hadn't been so painful. It must be because I'm not dying in action, like a hero, like I should. That has to be it; there is no other way to explain it.
It's getting darker, and I can hardly see the shadows anymore. The world seems to be closing in on me. Oh, gods, the light, it blinding, it hurts so badly. I… it's too dark, I'm suddenly afraid. Is this the end? The end of my life?
I hear the shrieking of tires; a deeper voice than the one before edged on the back of my mind, but I couldn't understand it. I felt hands grasp my shoulders tightly, ripping at me and I wonder if I screamed, but I don't remember.
I want to scream; I want to cry so badly; it hurts more than anything I have ever imagined. This darkness, it engulfs me, and I can hardly breath. These fingers against my skin are hot like fire, singeing me deeper than fire is able to go. Around me the imagines fade, blurred and broken fragments, thickly tainted red.
Then there is only darkness – and I know no more.
TBC
Anne: Well?????? Do ya like it? Yaya, I know it's incredible short compared to my other parts but I believe that it HAD to go in here. Besides it just kinda wrote itself. ANYWAY – it gives you a chance to see it from poor little Heero-chan's eyes! ~_^
Heero: HEERO-CHAN? –CHAN?????!!!!!!
Anne: * ignoring* anyway, I hope you liked it! ^_^ more to come soon!
