Gah! This is half-edited, so don't kill me for the crappiness, hm, more angst to come, I'm writing a sequel drabble to drabble 2...all my friend's fault for giving me a depressing poem involving someone dead. Is anyone who read the previous drabbles, still reading these? Just curious, b/c I like to know if you still are . Anyone want a sequel drabble to drabble 1? Just checking.
Review Responses
lazerducky27: Glad you liked! Updating fast like you asked! (oooo! it rhymes!)
Midnight Unicorn: Thank You! Glad you thought it was well-written
The Lightning Alchemist:...I'll sleep on that idea
xxphatxbaybeexx: I reuploaded drabble one, if you're still confuseddrop by my LJ
silent:tears:fall: That was my favorite line too The whole drabble was based on it.
On with the drabble!
Responsibility
Inspirational sentence? The last line like usual
By: Cringe aka keylah
Everyone has their burden of responsibility. The Mustang has his responsibility as a military officer and an alchemist to watch out for the people. Elysia, as a child, has her responsibility to be there for her mother. They all have their burdens, but they all get reprieve, they all have a moment when they can set down their packs, and breathe easy if only for a moment. Fullmetal can't do that. With every waking moment, with every breathe he takes, he is reminded of his responsibility. His self-proclaimed journey. He hears his brother's hollow, empty voice and is reminded that his brother cannot feel, cannot touch, without burning or freezing him with his armor. With every twitch of an unfeeling metal finger, every step of a heavy automail limb, he is reminded of his mistake. All have reprieve in sleep, the deep slumber in which one can relax and forget. All but Edward, as he sleeps, he cannot rest easy knowing his brother cannot truly sleep, cannot escape the lack of touch and sensory feeling by falling into momentary oblivion. He tosses and turns in his sleep, for if he stays still for but a moment, the weight of the automail limbs grow heavier and heavier, sinking into the mattress, telling him yet again of what he has to do. Every time, there is a reference to his diminutive height, he is reminded that he cannot truly grow until he has completed his mission, for his journey keeps him in the past. And everyone can only watch, as he perceivers through the hardships and barriers baring him from his goal, and watch him stumble from the heaviness of his duty, regaining his step more slowly each time. He keeps going and going, stumbling, then picking himself up once again.
Everyone watches him, worried that one day, he'll push himself too far, overreach his already stretched limits
And when that day comes, they're afraid he'll fall and never get back up.
