A/N: Before acceptance, there is always defiance on some level. Learning that you're somebody's shadow is hard to accept too.
So this is the first time I've been back at in a while! A lot got changed. Hmmm. It's not the place it was in 2004, that's for sure.
Now this is the first time I've also written Roxas, so I'm a nOOb on both levels. Any constructive criticism you've got to give me would be really appreciated!I love getting into new characters, but I need a little guidance on the way.
So read, review, tell me what I can do better! And, not to rhyme, butI'll love you forever.
In You And I
I'm always afraid of the night now because of you, whoever you are. I've come up with different names, but none of them fit you—my reflection, my paradox, my other half. I never used to be afraid of the darkness before. I don't know if you can hear me, or if you're even there, but I want you to listen. I want you to know that I wasn't always afraid.
In Twilight Town, nearly half of the houses are empty at any given time. People are always coming and going on brightly painted trains. It's hard to keep track of anyone here anymore. If you're here for a while, people start to recall your name when they see you coming. Otherwise, you're just a passing ghost, a trick of the light, the most fleeting of shadows. When you're not here for a long time, nobody ever really stops you to say, "Hello, good morning, how do you do?"
Hayner was always the best at knowing what houses were empty. He would tell us the address, tell us to skateboard over at twilight time. We would bring flashlights and notebooks to write down what wecould see,illuminated in the light. Olette would quiver beside me in those houses. She would reach for my hand, almost touching my palm, before catching herself and putting it back. Hayner and Pence would see the moving shadows and their minds would have unanswered questions. Suddenly unconfident, they would slink slightly towards the doors.
But I'd hold up a hand, stopping them as I smiled. "Hey, guys. Someone's there," I'd say, laughing as they all looked at me with wide eyes. "And I wonder who they are."
I'd say hello to the shadow, giving my name and an invitation to come into the light. But it'd always turn out to be Olette's shaking shadow or a moving curtain, a trick of the smoke or a trick of the mirrors.
"That's enough ghosts for me today," Olette would declare, and we would all agree with her because we thought, just for a moment, that something was really there.
Most times I would see red colors in some of those shadows. But then I'd remember that shadows are dark and cold. Shadows are not long and sharp, shadows are not red and shaped like fiery wheels. I've never been able to grasp a face out of the darkness and so it becomes a dream to be forgotten.
Hayner would impatiently call out for me and so I would leave those empty rooms behind me. They were homes once, but they were not anymore, and so why should I linger in someone else's lost dream?
We'd all walk down the street looking for the sea-salt ice cream vendor, who knew us all by names and faces like the rest of the kids here. We would head to the top of the twilight tower and eat the ice cream. After we all finished, from Pence first to me last, we would talk about everything until the sun set. We'd climb down the endless staircases back to the cobblestone streets and part ways, saying generic goodbyes. I would come home and turn off all the lights. I would sleep in complete darkness and I wouldn't mind at all.
But then you came into my dreams without my permission or without any word of warning. And now the darkness frightens me. Every night before I close my eyes I can see you standing right there, clear as any summer day. You sway slightly, your chained crown moving with you as you smile at me. I crawl deeper into my bed underneath my blankets, trying to become small underneath the tightly knitted heat. I hope that you haven't noticed where I've gone.
Sometimes you actually talk to me. I feel like I've gone crazy, hearing voices in my head that have taken on forms of their own. I wonder if anyone else ever sees you. But I don't know who to ask, so the question lies in my mind, feeding on me and my fear.
"Do you want to know more about me, Roxas?" you ask me with that same smile, a smile I see when I smile to myself in the mirror. I had the smile first—I can feel it, I can remember it, I know I smiled first. Where did you go to steal it from me? How do you know so much about me when I know nothing about you?
"You'll dream more about me tonight," you say, your smile never faltering, your body as bright as the full moon outside my window. "I'm telling you my story. I think you're really going to like it."
"Leave me alone—just leave me alone!" I demand with a strong voice. "I don't know you—and you shouldn't know me—"
"I know you better than anyone else," you reply airily, coming closer to me. I squeeze my eyes shut so I don't have to see you anymore. He's a mirage, he's a dream. He's nothing, Roxas, I tell myself, but it doesn't do any good because you force me to look at you.
Every night it never fails to scare me when I look at your eyes, because they're exactly like mine. They are the same shade of piercing blue, deep and bright like the ocean on the perfect summer day. I can't bear to look at you and I reach for the window and yank it open, as if the breeze might blow you away. I look back but you're still there, lingering like the smell of sea salt after a day at the beach.
"I know you because I am you," you say with your smile that rightfully belongs to me. "Or rather, you are me. You're nobody, Roxas. But I'm somebody. I came first."
"You're lying," I say angrily, wishing with all my heart and soul that you could disappear. My voice becomes louder, as if I'm trying to drown you in my screams. "You're lying!"
And that's when I wake up, shaking cold in the darkness. You disappear and leave me in peace. One night comes when I see your chained crown lying on my floor. I put it on underneath my cross pendant Olette gave me for my birthday. Together the two pendants feel heavy, but I notice that your crown is much heavier and feels so much more real than my cross does.
I decide then that I want to forget you and all of my other dreams about you and your journey across the stars. I throw your crown into the ocean where it can never be found. I never want you to come back. I just want to live my life the way I want to.
Now look sharp and listen up, because I'm only going to say this once: it's my life. And no matter what you say, it's never going to be yours.
A/N: Thanks for reading! Review if you're so inclined.
Katla out. :)