Disclaimer: I do not own any of the copyright characters portrayed in this
story, nor do I own the Matrix. No flames, please.
Chapter: The images change to children . . .
Smith walked downtown. It was daytime now, and Smith had gone through another sleepless night.
Brown and Jones were walking silently behind him. Brown was somewhat hurt by Smith's words, and Jones was neutral, as always. Except for the little quick smirks now and then.
Smith heard the soft melody of a violin. He looked to the side of a building, and there was a homeless man with a violin case open. He was playing a soft and beautiful melody on his violin, and god knows where he picked it up. (The violin)
(Begin Image)
The office man smiled at his daughter, Katrina. She was sitting in her room on the floor playing the violin her father got her for her birthday. She was playing a beautiful melody, and humming along with it.
"That's beautiful, darling. I'm impressed." He smiled.
"I love you, daddy. I'm glad you got this for me. It's so nice to play when I'm lonely or afraid, or when you aren't here . . . it reminds me of you." Katrina said.
The man knelt down beside his daughter. "I will never leave you alone, Katrina. Even if I'm at work, or out of town, I promise you I will never leave you absolutely alone. You'll always be in my heart."
(End Image)
Smith held his head for a minute. Brown and Jones caught up with him and were confused. Brown was about to speak up, but Jones raised his hand and shook his head. They watched Smith walk away from the homeless man. He'd taken out his earphone for awhile.
Brown looked at Jones, then took a dollar from his own pocket.
Smith stopped dead as he heard the cold clink of a coin fall into the case. He turned around to see Brown wave at the now happier man and began talking with Jones. Smith waited until Brown was close enough, then he punched Brown in the face.
Jones looked alarmed at Smith as Brown stared in shock at the Agent that punched him. Brown held the place where he was hit.
"Get up." Smith ordered.
Brown obeyed and got up. Smith grabbed him by the collar. "Go and take that coin back. We don't help the weak!"
Brown didn't reply.
"Go, now!" Smith ordered angrily.
"No." Brown replied. It was like a small child standing up to a big bully.
Smith grabbed Brown's sunglasses and threw them away. He looked at Brown's eyes, and stopped his rage. The same sleepless eyes that Smith showed were now staring back at him. Brown was also not sleeping, and was probably going through the same problem.
'Was . . . is Brown seeing things that never happened as well? Is this why he's acting so strangely?' Smith thought.
He let go of Brown, picked up the glasses, and gave them back to Brown. Brown, shakily, took them and placed them back on again.
Smith ran to a park with a big field. He stared at a little sand base where kids would play baseball.
(Begin Image)
The man pitched the ball at his son, who swung at it, sending it high up.
"Whoo! Look't her fly! That was great!" the man cheered. He looked at his son, who wasn't as enthusiastic. Nathan was sitting on the base, and looking at the ground.
"Hey, little guy. What is it?" the man asked, kneeling down beside his son.
"I . . . I just wish you were always around . . . like, at school when I practice . . ." Nathan replied.
"Why?" the man asked.
"You're the only one that actually cheers me on. You help me . . . everyone on both teams always cyke me out, or get really mad at me if I screw up . . ." Nathan sniffed.
"Hey, don't listen to 'em. They don't run your life! You run your own! If you mess up, who cares!? Hold your head up high, and if they give you any flack, stick out your tongue. If this is how they treat you, you don't need 'em. Ok?" the man smiled.
Nathan grinned, "Yeah. Thanks, dad." He hugged his father.
(End Image)
Smith screamed again while grasping his head. This didn't make any sense anymore, excluding the fact that it never did. He turned around to see Jones and Brown again, staring at him.
He decided that he no longer wanted them around him today. He walked up to them, grabbed his gun, and pointed it at Jones, then at Brown. "Leave, now." Smith ordered.
Jones was about to reach for his own gun, but Smith cocked his first. "No." he growled.
Jones and Brown looked at each other, then turned around and left.
Smith put his gun back and began walking into the neighbourhood.
(Begin Image)
The office man held his stomach. He felt nauseous as he walked around downtown. He's promised his family he'd be home for their Anniversary. He and his wife's 27th Anniversary was today. He thought about his nightmare, and his stomach was wrenching. It felt like something was actually inside him. Like he's swallowed a worm, or something.
Then, the pain became excruciating. He doubled over in an alley, but didn't throw up. He kept feeling as if he'd explode. He cried out, begging for help as his clothes began to change . . . his memories leave him.
(End Image)
Smith sighed, and found he was looking for a certain house in particular. Maybe if he found it, it would end his suffering.
He walked down the street until he came across a large white coloured house. The door was planked shut, as well as the windows. Smith walked towards the door, and his pulse quickened. Something was wrong with this house, though he did not know what. Smith opened the door after ripping off the planks. He entered, and the Chaos began.
A/N: oooh. what's gonna happen?! It's weird, I'll ye that. It'll be up by tomorrow, I hope.
(By the way, the 27th Anniversary thing is in homage to Orlando Bloom. Happy 27th birthday, Bloom boy! It's January 13th today!)
Chapter: The images change to children . . .
Smith walked downtown. It was daytime now, and Smith had gone through another sleepless night.
Brown and Jones were walking silently behind him. Brown was somewhat hurt by Smith's words, and Jones was neutral, as always. Except for the little quick smirks now and then.
Smith heard the soft melody of a violin. He looked to the side of a building, and there was a homeless man with a violin case open. He was playing a soft and beautiful melody on his violin, and god knows where he picked it up. (The violin)
(Begin Image)
The office man smiled at his daughter, Katrina. She was sitting in her room on the floor playing the violin her father got her for her birthday. She was playing a beautiful melody, and humming along with it.
"That's beautiful, darling. I'm impressed." He smiled.
"I love you, daddy. I'm glad you got this for me. It's so nice to play when I'm lonely or afraid, or when you aren't here . . . it reminds me of you." Katrina said.
The man knelt down beside his daughter. "I will never leave you alone, Katrina. Even if I'm at work, or out of town, I promise you I will never leave you absolutely alone. You'll always be in my heart."
(End Image)
Smith held his head for a minute. Brown and Jones caught up with him and were confused. Brown was about to speak up, but Jones raised his hand and shook his head. They watched Smith walk away from the homeless man. He'd taken out his earphone for awhile.
Brown looked at Jones, then took a dollar from his own pocket.
Smith stopped dead as he heard the cold clink of a coin fall into the case. He turned around to see Brown wave at the now happier man and began talking with Jones. Smith waited until Brown was close enough, then he punched Brown in the face.
Jones looked alarmed at Smith as Brown stared in shock at the Agent that punched him. Brown held the place where he was hit.
"Get up." Smith ordered.
Brown obeyed and got up. Smith grabbed him by the collar. "Go and take that coin back. We don't help the weak!"
Brown didn't reply.
"Go, now!" Smith ordered angrily.
"No." Brown replied. It was like a small child standing up to a big bully.
Smith grabbed Brown's sunglasses and threw them away. He looked at Brown's eyes, and stopped his rage. The same sleepless eyes that Smith showed were now staring back at him. Brown was also not sleeping, and was probably going through the same problem.
'Was . . . is Brown seeing things that never happened as well? Is this why he's acting so strangely?' Smith thought.
He let go of Brown, picked up the glasses, and gave them back to Brown. Brown, shakily, took them and placed them back on again.
Smith ran to a park with a big field. He stared at a little sand base where kids would play baseball.
(Begin Image)
The man pitched the ball at his son, who swung at it, sending it high up.
"Whoo! Look't her fly! That was great!" the man cheered. He looked at his son, who wasn't as enthusiastic. Nathan was sitting on the base, and looking at the ground.
"Hey, little guy. What is it?" the man asked, kneeling down beside his son.
"I . . . I just wish you were always around . . . like, at school when I practice . . ." Nathan replied.
"Why?" the man asked.
"You're the only one that actually cheers me on. You help me . . . everyone on both teams always cyke me out, or get really mad at me if I screw up . . ." Nathan sniffed.
"Hey, don't listen to 'em. They don't run your life! You run your own! If you mess up, who cares!? Hold your head up high, and if they give you any flack, stick out your tongue. If this is how they treat you, you don't need 'em. Ok?" the man smiled.
Nathan grinned, "Yeah. Thanks, dad." He hugged his father.
(End Image)
Smith screamed again while grasping his head. This didn't make any sense anymore, excluding the fact that it never did. He turned around to see Jones and Brown again, staring at him.
He decided that he no longer wanted them around him today. He walked up to them, grabbed his gun, and pointed it at Jones, then at Brown. "Leave, now." Smith ordered.
Jones was about to reach for his own gun, but Smith cocked his first. "No." he growled.
Jones and Brown looked at each other, then turned around and left.
Smith put his gun back and began walking into the neighbourhood.
(Begin Image)
The office man held his stomach. He felt nauseous as he walked around downtown. He's promised his family he'd be home for their Anniversary. He and his wife's 27th Anniversary was today. He thought about his nightmare, and his stomach was wrenching. It felt like something was actually inside him. Like he's swallowed a worm, or something.
Then, the pain became excruciating. He doubled over in an alley, but didn't throw up. He kept feeling as if he'd explode. He cried out, begging for help as his clothes began to change . . . his memories leave him.
(End Image)
Smith sighed, and found he was looking for a certain house in particular. Maybe if he found it, it would end his suffering.
He walked down the street until he came across a large white coloured house. The door was planked shut, as well as the windows. Smith walked towards the door, and his pulse quickened. Something was wrong with this house, though he did not know what. Smith opened the door after ripping off the planks. He entered, and the Chaos began.
A/N: oooh. what's gonna happen?! It's weird, I'll ye that. It'll be up by tomorrow, I hope.
(By the way, the 27th Anniversary thing is in homage to Orlando Bloom. Happy 27th birthday, Bloom boy! It's January 13th today!)