Disclaimer: I own nothing except the story. I claim nothing else. Have
at.
Freedom
I'm dreaming again. It's more of a nightmare, really. A scary place that seems to override any decent thoughts I'd hope to obtain throughout the night. Actually, I don't really think I'm unconscious anymore. Who knows what's real and what's fake? I certainly don't. At least not since the accident. Not since you left me here, alone. I guess that's why I'm going crazy. I guess that's why life has long since abandoned me. Well, any sense of life that indicates I'm alive on the inside. Outside I'm breathing and kicking and yelling, but inside, nothing. Emptiness. A deadness ready to invade my soul.
I need you. You can't come, you can't help, but I still need you. I need you to help me. I need you to take away all the pain I know I should be feeling, but don't. Even though it's not there, I still need you to take it away. I don't know what I'm saying anymore. Nothing makes sense to me. Not my dreams, my thoughts. Nothing. I feel as if I'm in a void, trapped for all eternity. I know you weren't expecting for it to happen. No one can prepare for that kind of emotional roller coaster. I tried to feel your pain. I tried to feel your hurt, your anger. Your shame. But I couldn't. I couldn't feel anything. Not one ounce of emotion passed through my broken soul as you cried, screamed, and floated away.
I remember the first time I met you. You stood there; you're eyes smiling at some hidden joke that only you seemed to understand. Your lips moved and the words sailed out.
"Connie Moreau." Your smile growing wider as you spoke each syllable. The toothless grin hidden behind your rosy lips was forever branded into my mind's eye. I'd never heard or seen anything more beautiful, more perfect. I was five, and I was in love.
"G-Guy Germ-maine." I stumbled. You laughed at the blush entertaining throughout my face. Then you grabbed my hand. I relaxed, and let you lead me. I didn't know where we were going, or if it was worth it, but I followed nonetheless. I liked being a follower, it insures that you're not alone. I don't like being alone. I haven't liked it for a long time. You took me to your favorite place, remember? It was green and blue and red and yellow and every color that I've ever had the capacity to identify. You smiled and said that we could stay there forever. And I did, at least in some corner of my mind. I always sat there, smiling and laughing as you sang and danced and just let yourself be free. With me.
It's not like that anymore. My dreams have become black, morbid even. I can't deal with the iciness filling my heart. I try, God do I try. Everyday is fight to live for me. And I'm tiring of fighting. I no longer have the will to wake up each day. I can give up; I can give in. Just like you did. I can cut and never wake up. I can pull the shinny metallic edge of the razor across my wrist and let my empty void fill with blood. That appeals to me more than dreamless sleep. More than healing. I want it more than anything, except seeing you. I need to see you. That's why I'm doing this, to be free. With you.
I grab the blade on the corner of the sink and my stomach jumps. I drop it down to my bare wrist and begin to cut. It burns at first. Oh, God, does it burn. I smile when blood starts to seep out of my freshly carved wound. This pain is the first thing I have felt since you died. I feel giddy, free. This is what you must have felt like that night. Free. With one final stroke, I look down and see a crimson river at my feet. I begin to feel faint, and slowly sit down. A goofy smile captures my lips as I begin to absorb exactly what I have done. I've just ended the only thing keeping me from you. Life.
I remember the first time I met you. You stood there; you're eyes smiling at some hidden joke that only you seemed to understand.
Then you grabbed my hand. I relaxed, and let you lead me. I didn't know where we were going, or if it was worth it, but I followed nonetheless. You took me to your favorite place, remember? It was green and blue and red and yellow and every color that I've ever had the capacity to identify. You smiled and said that we could stay there forever. And I did, at least in some corner of my mind. I always sat there, smiling and laughing as you sang and danced and just let yourself be free. With me.
Now we're both free, living in that same paradise that you first introduced me too.
We're free, both of us, together...
A/N: That is it. My first attempt. Have at.
Freedom
I'm dreaming again. It's more of a nightmare, really. A scary place that seems to override any decent thoughts I'd hope to obtain throughout the night. Actually, I don't really think I'm unconscious anymore. Who knows what's real and what's fake? I certainly don't. At least not since the accident. Not since you left me here, alone. I guess that's why I'm going crazy. I guess that's why life has long since abandoned me. Well, any sense of life that indicates I'm alive on the inside. Outside I'm breathing and kicking and yelling, but inside, nothing. Emptiness. A deadness ready to invade my soul.
I need you. You can't come, you can't help, but I still need you. I need you to help me. I need you to take away all the pain I know I should be feeling, but don't. Even though it's not there, I still need you to take it away. I don't know what I'm saying anymore. Nothing makes sense to me. Not my dreams, my thoughts. Nothing. I feel as if I'm in a void, trapped for all eternity. I know you weren't expecting for it to happen. No one can prepare for that kind of emotional roller coaster. I tried to feel your pain. I tried to feel your hurt, your anger. Your shame. But I couldn't. I couldn't feel anything. Not one ounce of emotion passed through my broken soul as you cried, screamed, and floated away.
I remember the first time I met you. You stood there; you're eyes smiling at some hidden joke that only you seemed to understand. Your lips moved and the words sailed out.
"Connie Moreau." Your smile growing wider as you spoke each syllable. The toothless grin hidden behind your rosy lips was forever branded into my mind's eye. I'd never heard or seen anything more beautiful, more perfect. I was five, and I was in love.
"G-Guy Germ-maine." I stumbled. You laughed at the blush entertaining throughout my face. Then you grabbed my hand. I relaxed, and let you lead me. I didn't know where we were going, or if it was worth it, but I followed nonetheless. I liked being a follower, it insures that you're not alone. I don't like being alone. I haven't liked it for a long time. You took me to your favorite place, remember? It was green and blue and red and yellow and every color that I've ever had the capacity to identify. You smiled and said that we could stay there forever. And I did, at least in some corner of my mind. I always sat there, smiling and laughing as you sang and danced and just let yourself be free. With me.
It's not like that anymore. My dreams have become black, morbid even. I can't deal with the iciness filling my heart. I try, God do I try. Everyday is fight to live for me. And I'm tiring of fighting. I no longer have the will to wake up each day. I can give up; I can give in. Just like you did. I can cut and never wake up. I can pull the shinny metallic edge of the razor across my wrist and let my empty void fill with blood. That appeals to me more than dreamless sleep. More than healing. I want it more than anything, except seeing you. I need to see you. That's why I'm doing this, to be free. With you.
I grab the blade on the corner of the sink and my stomach jumps. I drop it down to my bare wrist and begin to cut. It burns at first. Oh, God, does it burn. I smile when blood starts to seep out of my freshly carved wound. This pain is the first thing I have felt since you died. I feel giddy, free. This is what you must have felt like that night. Free. With one final stroke, I look down and see a crimson river at my feet. I begin to feel faint, and slowly sit down. A goofy smile captures my lips as I begin to absorb exactly what I have done. I've just ended the only thing keeping me from you. Life.
I remember the first time I met you. You stood there; you're eyes smiling at some hidden joke that only you seemed to understand.
Then you grabbed my hand. I relaxed, and let you lead me. I didn't know where we were going, or if it was worth it, but I followed nonetheless. You took me to your favorite place, remember? It was green and blue and red and yellow and every color that I've ever had the capacity to identify. You smiled and said that we could stay there forever. And I did, at least in some corner of my mind. I always sat there, smiling and laughing as you sang and danced and just let yourself be free. With me.
Now we're both free, living in that same paradise that you first introduced me too.
We're free, both of us, together...
A/N: That is it. My first attempt. Have at.