**Episode 24. Disclaimer: Don't own**
***Faye***
How long has she been running?
The fast steady beats of her steps, making long strides along the graveled ground beneath her shoes, marking their way to the path she once knew but never remembered seem to push her along. Keep running she told herself, keep going and you'll find your salvation.
Could she therefore find it in herself that she was privy to something more than what she is now? That she was not just some girl who woke up one morning confused and ached for a memory?
Did she somehow in the recesses of her mind become someone she would have despised in her former life? She kept going, making longer strides to keep up with the wind and the sun that glimpsed along the road. The glint of approaching sunset touches the edges of palm leaves and she tries in her heart to find that maybe, just maybe she isn't who she is now.
A view up ahead shows her the way but it was only her memories really. A younger version of herself with the youthful expression of innocence marks her way forward. The faintness of it so clear in her head and the music echoes brightly in her ears, drumming the blood flow that scream faster and you'll see, Faye Valentine, it whispers in her veins, you'll see.
Her breathing sounded so harsh now and there it was—the gateway to her past. The beautiful picture of a great mansion blossoms in her old memory and the tears that threaten behind her eyes still her in complete suspense. Small child like hands were placed on that grey wall that separated only to be replaced by long slender fingers. They touch the old rusty iron that felt like new metal and she had let out a silent breath that sounded in the stillness of the air.
No.
What was left was her past—like the buried old grave that she had passed along the way and the broken recollection that gave her nothing but clues and empty family lines. The wind whistles in a form of a banshee and the music plays like an orchestra and guitar strings that hang in the approaching twilight.
One step at a time, she took them one step at a time and they measured themselves against her heartbeat. Not even tears could flow for her and the years that stretched before could not bring her back. She lay there on the gritty ground and the dust swirls were dancing in waltz around her and she left it up to the future to shape her way. Your past is the link to your future they say and the bloodlines that flow within your veins are important as life and death.
Did the spirits of her ancestry remember her? Or was she forgotten in the last seconds of those hours before sundown? She knew better than to ask these questions over and over again but they would not leave her in peace. Faye stares above at the movement of clouds and the passing of time and lets out a big sigh. Everything around her had passed away and left her only fragments of dust and old pieces of things more than a hundred years old.
*******
An unspoken figure stands at the window—the smoke rising to create a cloud around his dark hair and the man stares out. The words etched out in a child's hand, innocent and playful, reminiscence of a willful and precarious spirit brought out a slight ache within the breast of his heart. He hadn't felt anything for anyone in a long time but the words in orange crayon like colors that stare back at him pulls invisible strings inside.
Jet had called him to come and eat but Spike remains silent. The windmill left behind was a token of friendship and a final goodbye.
*******
bachus: "Just because I can do humour doesn't mean I can't get serious" heh.
maybe i'll do more of this episode and continue from it. maybe.
***Faye***
How long has she been running?
The fast steady beats of her steps, making long strides along the graveled ground beneath her shoes, marking their way to the path she once knew but never remembered seem to push her along. Keep running she told herself, keep going and you'll find your salvation.
Could she therefore find it in herself that she was privy to something more than what she is now? That she was not just some girl who woke up one morning confused and ached for a memory?
Did she somehow in the recesses of her mind become someone she would have despised in her former life? She kept going, making longer strides to keep up with the wind and the sun that glimpsed along the road. The glint of approaching sunset touches the edges of palm leaves and she tries in her heart to find that maybe, just maybe she isn't who she is now.
A view up ahead shows her the way but it was only her memories really. A younger version of herself with the youthful expression of innocence marks her way forward. The faintness of it so clear in her head and the music echoes brightly in her ears, drumming the blood flow that scream faster and you'll see, Faye Valentine, it whispers in her veins, you'll see.
Her breathing sounded so harsh now and there it was—the gateway to her past. The beautiful picture of a great mansion blossoms in her old memory and the tears that threaten behind her eyes still her in complete suspense. Small child like hands were placed on that grey wall that separated only to be replaced by long slender fingers. They touch the old rusty iron that felt like new metal and she had let out a silent breath that sounded in the stillness of the air.
No.
What was left was her past—like the buried old grave that she had passed along the way and the broken recollection that gave her nothing but clues and empty family lines. The wind whistles in a form of a banshee and the music plays like an orchestra and guitar strings that hang in the approaching twilight.
One step at a time, she took them one step at a time and they measured themselves against her heartbeat. Not even tears could flow for her and the years that stretched before could not bring her back. She lay there on the gritty ground and the dust swirls were dancing in waltz around her and she left it up to the future to shape her way. Your past is the link to your future they say and the bloodlines that flow within your veins are important as life and death.
Did the spirits of her ancestry remember her? Or was she forgotten in the last seconds of those hours before sundown? She knew better than to ask these questions over and over again but they would not leave her in peace. Faye stares above at the movement of clouds and the passing of time and lets out a big sigh. Everything around her had passed away and left her only fragments of dust and old pieces of things more than a hundred years old.
*******
An unspoken figure stands at the window—the smoke rising to create a cloud around his dark hair and the man stares out. The words etched out in a child's hand, innocent and playful, reminiscence of a willful and precarious spirit brought out a slight ache within the breast of his heart. He hadn't felt anything for anyone in a long time but the words in orange crayon like colors that stare back at him pulls invisible strings inside.
Jet had called him to come and eat but Spike remains silent. The windmill left behind was a token of friendship and a final goodbye.
*******
bachus: "Just because I can do humour doesn't mean I can't get serious" heh.
maybe i'll do more of this episode and continue from it. maybe.