Wings.
Big and white and soft and fluffy. Everywhere. White feathers, floating down, falling turning tumbling spinning down all around.
So pretty.
Feathers.
White like sin, so soft and gentle. Caressing comforting soothing freezing and falling, always falling falling falling down. Everywhere. Couldn't see for all the feathers.
They were cold.
Snow.
Smaller than the feathers, it was the feathers, so cold and soft and white. Gently – gently! Falling down, tumbling 'round, without a sound. They froze. Froze until they burned.
So many.
Ash.
Drifting down, pale little specks. Still warm and burning and smelling like spices and smoke and death. Little faery wings brushing beating falling. Everywhere. In the eyes in the nose in the mouth in the ears in the skin. In the blood. Smothering choking stroking killing.
They're going to kill me.
Fire.
Burning crackling laughing dancing fire. It screamed. It was everywhere. No escape. No salvation. Only fire, burning twirling writhing prancing on flickering wings and burning feathers.
No hope.
Feathers.
Big and bright and burning. Tarry smoke, smell that smell, that sweet sweet smell. Dying. Everyone is screaming and all the children are crying and no one no one no one cares. Flying everywhere, burning wings. Feathers falling burning starving slaying.
They won't stop burning.
Wings.
Cracking breaking snapping falling. Feathers tumbling down down down all the way to the ground. Stained. Bones. Snapped twigs, shiny white twigs, hollow inside after the marrow's all gone. Taken out. Sucked out. Delicious. Ligaments. Tendons. Sinew. Snipped like threads, snapping and flopping like little limp noodles. Shiny and pink and glistening. Or are they white? No, pink. Useless pink noodles. Tasty pink noodles. Pink is almost red. Red like blood.
So much.
Blood.
Staining fouling tarnishing spreading flowing rushing like water. Water never smelled like this felt like this tasted like this. Exquisite. Lap it up drink it up never to be filled. Can't get enough, never never never enough. Trickles flow to brooks flow to streams flow to rivers flow to bigger rivers flow to lakes to oceans. Drown the world and it is still not enough. Drink and listen to them crying.
They're always crying.
Screaming.
Shouting calling yelling pleading crying. Listen to them. They won't stop screaming. A concert of screams, never ceasing always playing. Scream your songs. Sing your screams. Sweetly scream, scream me to sleep.
So pretty.
**************
*blinks* Well. That was weird. And, disturbingly enough, not half so graphic as I was going to make it.
…
I think I should be scared by that. Just … just a little, yeah.
Kuroiyousei: (for 37) High school's pretty scary, yeah (or, depressing, when you realize that I haven't had a best friend since I started), but it's got nothing on Jr. High. That was just … *shudders* … indescribable. And, oddly enough, I might be able to make a dream that is at least slightly citrus-flavored actually fit sometime soon (i.e., within the next month – so, not soon at all, really. .). Might. So please don't quote me on that. *pets pretty little o's* So cute. *beams*
To whoever reviewed ch. 5, thanks! I mean, a name would have been cool, so I could like, you know, have a general idea of who I'm thanking, but whatever. Oh, I know! Henceforth, I will call you Five Little Dots, even though it is extremely unlikely that you will ever review again. Thank you Five Little Dots, for removing any need for me to wallow in my own ignorance. Should I write a chapter with the word Bakumatsu in it (highly likely, though maybe not anytime soon), I will be sure to credit you. *hugs*
(for damn little A/N, which has now been removed and replaced with actual content, as I promised.)
Kuroiyousei: *reads comment* *checks author statistics* *re-reads* *re-checks* S-s-s-s-sixty nine?! *squeaks* I actually have over sixty-nine reviews for this thing? Wow. *swoons* no, no don't be sorry at all – I'm not quite hentai enough that I place any significance on a certain number of reviews … though I might have to do something special for chapter 69 … hmmm. *has bad thoughts* And I really love the story so far! All you out there – go to Kuroiyousei's lj and read the nice little story! Read it … *shakes fist* ^_^ *stage whisper* I think I'm a little crazy, ya know? Don't tell! *winks*
Lychee2: oh, the surgery wasn't for anything connected to my flu – and it was incredibly minor, so don't worry. I have all of three stitches in my lip to show from it, and the worst part was that a) it was boring, and b) they were kinda holding my lip funny for it, and that was a little irritating. I went right home, and was fine. Until I woke up about six hours later and found out that the meds wore off, and then I was all "oh God, the pain! Why? WHY?!?!?" And then I took more meds, and was all "Wooaaah, man. It's … it's like, like stuff, ya know? Just like stuff, but without the thingies." And you know what? I'm actually feeling better now! *dances* *reads rest of comment* Umm, yeah. Nah, it's cool, man. No pressure. At all. Right. *sweatdrops* pressurepressurepressurePRESSURE! *head explodes*
Nicky: I'm glad you like it, because the whole thing is making me very twitchy, to say the least. But I'll leave it alone, so I guess it can't be too bad. Thanks for the well-wishes – I'm doing much better now, though I did have a slight relapse this afternoon, where I felt like my head was going to explode if I moved at all (or if I stayed still for that matter). And even if you guys can wait (that I do not doubt), I still feel guilty every time I miss a day, for whatever reason. ^_^ Just a little thing of mine – when I say I'm going to do something – not when someone tells me to do something, or when someone else says I'm going to do something do something – and then, for whatever reason, I can't/don't, it just gets me so pissed off like nothing else.