Night Storms
Author: Violette Mai
(I do not own gundam wing or its characters.)
I don't have much else to say, except character death.
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Depressed Prussian blue eyes blinked open at the sound of clashing thunder. Clouded by sleep they slowly turned to the bright neon colors displayed on the alarm clock. Blurry numbers read 3:26 AM. Blinking in puzzlement they turned to the window. Rain splattered heavily against the windows, tree branches moved quickly scratching against the window creating a loud screeching noise. Lightening split the sky followed by a low crackling thunder that could be felt threw the house.
With a heavy sigh Heero threw his quilt aside and stood up stiffly. With a slight stretch he put on his white cotton robe and made his way to the kitchen quietly. He sat himself at the kitchen table with a coffee cup of milk. Bored he tapped his fingers on the table and stared out the window.
Sheets of heavy rain still fell to the ground and puddles formed and grew bigger. Branches fell to the ground and the old oak tree wavered in the wind. Shaking his locks of brown hair in his face he looked around for yesterdays newspaper and frowned. It was always on the counter until the new one came, yet the counter was bare. Someone must have thrown it out already. Wrinkling his nose he stood up sipping his milk and looked down into the garbage can. Easy target. He could see the corners sticking out, so he yanked it out letting pieces of trash land on the floor. Mission successful. Smirking he looked at front page and almost dropped his milk. His guts felt like they fell threw and splattered on the wooden floor. His heart stopped, lungs froze. His stared at the paper and knew what the bold words meant, but he refused to believe what he was reading. Finally, what felt like an eternity he slowly put his milk on the counter, and slid down to sit leaning against the cupboards.
"01 THE KILLER OF INNOCENCE" That simple phrase stuck to his mind, and sent the feelings of needles poking his body. Blinking his hurt Prussian eyes, tears slid down his flushed cheeks. Scanning the article, he tried his best to ignore the tears that blurred his vision.
"547 civilians including woman and children massacred at the complex 8 years ago, followed by the killing of the Noventa's." The article went on, hitting every emotion Heero had in him. Everything was true he did kill those people. He was a murderer, a killer, and a failure. The whole world, probably even the colonies now know it too. News spread fast, there was no way he could escape his reputation. No one would want to be his friend; no one would look at him as a hero, but a killer. Oh god, that must mean that Duo, Trowa, Quatre and Fei know it too. What do they think? Is this why the paper was thrown away, they were trying to protect him. Worst yet they probably are thinking of a plan against him or a way to tell him he is no longer needed or wanted around. No, they couldn't believe it. They all know it was a mistake, an accident. He is not the perfect soldier, Duo told him that. That means there is still hope, right? They will forgive him, his true friends will but the rest of the world will not. He will live with the hate everyday for the rest of his life.
Scrubbing his tears away Heero stood up, throwing the paper aside. Standing in front of the porch screen door, he looked out in to the storm. A storm is what he felt his emotions going threw. He has cried dozens of times for his mistakes, even prayed begging God for forgiveness but it's never good enough. He will never be good enough. Realization dawned on him, frosting his body over with a layer of fear with living everyday of his life with heated glares thrown his way, children hating him for taking their parents or siblings, and parent's and friends crying over lost loved ones. He couldn't live on like this. Taking a cutting knife from the kitchen, he walked out onto the porch, closing the screen door behind him. Rain splattered onto his body, wetting his bangs to his face, erasing his tracks of tears. It wasn't long until his body began to shiver with the wind constantly blowing freezing winds.
It was dark, lightening flashed far out in the distant skies. The wind screamed in his ears. His now blank eyes went down to stare absent- mindedly at the knife. He could do this; he had the power to do this. The edge of the knife was cold pressed against his wrist, but a simple chill wasn't going to stop him. Moving it across his wrist he gazed at the trail of blood that formed as it rose up and ran down his fingers and mixed in with the rain and then splattered on the wooden deck. Another slice and more blood mixed into the rain and he couldn't explain why, but it made him angry that his blood was easily being washed away. It was like the rain was cleansing him of his mistakes. He is a failure, he deserves to see his blood spill. No one or thing should clean him of is error.
Pained eyes turned angry, almost mad. His thin arm moved quickly and hard across his wrist in a frantic motion. Silver flashed in the lightening and his gasps of breath turned into sobs as tears once again slid down his cheeks. The anger that filled him faded until he felt tired and empty. The knife slipped from his loose wrist and clanked to the wooden porch. Heero fell to his knees and cried. It was just too much. The pain was unbearable, why wouldn't it go away? Why, why bother asking. He knew the answer. He couldn't let the pain go, it let him feel something besides that numb depressing weight on his shoulders. The pain that was his savior was also his killer. The pain he loved so much was killing him. No one understood him, or understands why he goes threw each day with the pain. No one but Duo knows. Prussian eyes blinked closed and his body slumped to the ground exhausted.
Rain sprinkled down, and lightening flickered. Thunder long ago rolled away. The storm has ceased, no longer fighting. The moon peeked down threw a cluster of clouds and a long shadow spread across the lawn from the screen door. A shadow of a man with violet eyes and a long braid.
Review and tell me what you think. Tell me if you would like a sequel or not, and feel free to leave some idea's. If enough people like this, then, YEAH YOU GET A SEQUEL!
Author: Violette Mai
(I do not own gundam wing or its characters.)
I don't have much else to say, except character death.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Depressed Prussian blue eyes blinked open at the sound of clashing thunder. Clouded by sleep they slowly turned to the bright neon colors displayed on the alarm clock. Blurry numbers read 3:26 AM. Blinking in puzzlement they turned to the window. Rain splattered heavily against the windows, tree branches moved quickly scratching against the window creating a loud screeching noise. Lightening split the sky followed by a low crackling thunder that could be felt threw the house.
With a heavy sigh Heero threw his quilt aside and stood up stiffly. With a slight stretch he put on his white cotton robe and made his way to the kitchen quietly. He sat himself at the kitchen table with a coffee cup of milk. Bored he tapped his fingers on the table and stared out the window.
Sheets of heavy rain still fell to the ground and puddles formed and grew bigger. Branches fell to the ground and the old oak tree wavered in the wind. Shaking his locks of brown hair in his face he looked around for yesterdays newspaper and frowned. It was always on the counter until the new one came, yet the counter was bare. Someone must have thrown it out already. Wrinkling his nose he stood up sipping his milk and looked down into the garbage can. Easy target. He could see the corners sticking out, so he yanked it out letting pieces of trash land on the floor. Mission successful. Smirking he looked at front page and almost dropped his milk. His guts felt like they fell threw and splattered on the wooden floor. His heart stopped, lungs froze. His stared at the paper and knew what the bold words meant, but he refused to believe what he was reading. Finally, what felt like an eternity he slowly put his milk on the counter, and slid down to sit leaning against the cupboards.
"01 THE KILLER OF INNOCENCE" That simple phrase stuck to his mind, and sent the feelings of needles poking his body. Blinking his hurt Prussian eyes, tears slid down his flushed cheeks. Scanning the article, he tried his best to ignore the tears that blurred his vision.
"547 civilians including woman and children massacred at the complex 8 years ago, followed by the killing of the Noventa's." The article went on, hitting every emotion Heero had in him. Everything was true he did kill those people. He was a murderer, a killer, and a failure. The whole world, probably even the colonies now know it too. News spread fast, there was no way he could escape his reputation. No one would want to be his friend; no one would look at him as a hero, but a killer. Oh god, that must mean that Duo, Trowa, Quatre and Fei know it too. What do they think? Is this why the paper was thrown away, they were trying to protect him. Worst yet they probably are thinking of a plan against him or a way to tell him he is no longer needed or wanted around. No, they couldn't believe it. They all know it was a mistake, an accident. He is not the perfect soldier, Duo told him that. That means there is still hope, right? They will forgive him, his true friends will but the rest of the world will not. He will live with the hate everyday for the rest of his life.
Scrubbing his tears away Heero stood up, throwing the paper aside. Standing in front of the porch screen door, he looked out in to the storm. A storm is what he felt his emotions going threw. He has cried dozens of times for his mistakes, even prayed begging God for forgiveness but it's never good enough. He will never be good enough. Realization dawned on him, frosting his body over with a layer of fear with living everyday of his life with heated glares thrown his way, children hating him for taking their parents or siblings, and parent's and friends crying over lost loved ones. He couldn't live on like this. Taking a cutting knife from the kitchen, he walked out onto the porch, closing the screen door behind him. Rain splattered onto his body, wetting his bangs to his face, erasing his tracks of tears. It wasn't long until his body began to shiver with the wind constantly blowing freezing winds.
It was dark, lightening flashed far out in the distant skies. The wind screamed in his ears. His now blank eyes went down to stare absent- mindedly at the knife. He could do this; he had the power to do this. The edge of the knife was cold pressed against his wrist, but a simple chill wasn't going to stop him. Moving it across his wrist he gazed at the trail of blood that formed as it rose up and ran down his fingers and mixed in with the rain and then splattered on the wooden deck. Another slice and more blood mixed into the rain and he couldn't explain why, but it made him angry that his blood was easily being washed away. It was like the rain was cleansing him of his mistakes. He is a failure, he deserves to see his blood spill. No one or thing should clean him of is error.
Pained eyes turned angry, almost mad. His thin arm moved quickly and hard across his wrist in a frantic motion. Silver flashed in the lightening and his gasps of breath turned into sobs as tears once again slid down his cheeks. The anger that filled him faded until he felt tired and empty. The knife slipped from his loose wrist and clanked to the wooden porch. Heero fell to his knees and cried. It was just too much. The pain was unbearable, why wouldn't it go away? Why, why bother asking. He knew the answer. He couldn't let the pain go, it let him feel something besides that numb depressing weight on his shoulders. The pain that was his savior was also his killer. The pain he loved so much was killing him. No one understood him, or understands why he goes threw each day with the pain. No one but Duo knows. Prussian eyes blinked closed and his body slumped to the ground exhausted.
Rain sprinkled down, and lightening flickered. Thunder long ago rolled away. The storm has ceased, no longer fighting. The moon peeked down threw a cluster of clouds and a long shadow spread across the lawn from the screen door. A shadow of a man with violet eyes and a long braid.
Review and tell me what you think. Tell me if you would like a sequel or not, and feel free to leave some idea's. If enough people like this, then, YEAH YOU GET A SEQUEL!