Disclaimer: I don't own it, nor I own 'Apocalypse Now'. So, chill.
A/N: There is a quote (a bit modified) from Apocalypse Now. I am too tired now, sorry :P Please, review.
Puzzle
by
Ta-dah/crazy.escapist
'You should act more lady-like.'
She had grimaced – as expected of her, and laughed in uneasy manner, but not caring at all.
She was not supposed to, anyway.
Those who made this remarks already liked her for who she was – a careless, perky, bit happy-go-lucky kind of girl.
Some that knew of the nature of her job, called her a monster, the one that killed with a smile on her face (and she DID), the one that didn't think of consequences, that was rash and enjoyed herself (in a BATTLE!). Those of them who liked her, expected her to be a bit stupid and acted like she was, because it could be some kind of justification (but she wasn't!).
They talked with her, they talked behind her back (isn't Éclair cruel? Who would suspect? monster…) and she knew and didn't care.
Because they had NO IDEA.
Because she knew the horror. She knew that horror has a face... And that you must make a friend of horror. Horror and moral terror are your friends. If they are not, then they are enemies to be feared.
She felt the blood on her face, warm, blood slicks on her mouth when she was ALL alone, and none was there beside her (there were millions beside her), she cried over the bodies of enemies (and didn't knew WHY), she felt the insanity lurking in her mind, the thousand voices inside her head during the night that told her bawdy and bizzarre things, the voices that kept her half awake. She smelled the odour of dead bodies, and puked all over her clothes – but that wasn't the worst.
She had seen the dead bodies, but she hadn't killed them, and it was what was the worst.
She had seen the killing. Seen the women begging for life, seen the raping, heard the laugh of the lecherous soldiers that would always forever ring in her ears afterwards.
She was guilty of the catastrophe on That Planet. She was guilty of indifference. She was guilty of being the bystander. She was guilty of being late.
She was on the edge of insanity, beyond caring, but the world wouldn't end, and she wouldn't give up first.
And she wasn't stupid (it was just an excuse not to hate her, not to fear her), and she figured that if she didn't care it would be alright. She shouldn't think of it. She should think of something happy. She should be happy.
She thought how long for the others would take to realize. To survive.
No, she didn't think that. Maybe 150 years ago, she would have, but now, she didn't.
She was content, she felt and she didn't, and she didn't care at all.
She was not supposed to, anyway.