Hello. Yes I'm alive. I know, I know. I'm sorry. But frankly, I'm depressed, sad, and feel like a big pile of rotten tomatoes. Useless, and disgusting. I have no inspiration, and this story IS NOT GOING HOW I WANT IT TO BE.
And I just feel like no one is actually enjoying this story.
And I lost my USB key.
Which is the equivalent of me losing my life.
Yup. I'm desperate.
Anyway, here it is:
I was falling. Falling, falling, falling, falling. I didn't fall unconscious, just I had the feeling like I was falling. Or more precisely, everything around me was breaking to pieces, dissolving, and being destroyed. The very careful line of protection I had built around to not let everything crash down shattered.
The smiles I had forced to show Edmund I was fine.
The lies Edmund and I had created together subconsciously acting with the same goal, to hide the fact that we desperately wondered what would happen when I'd have to leave again. Would I go back, without any afterthought or regret, with no hard feeling shared with him? Or would I stay. Surely if I left, nothing would heal the cracks that we filled in for each other.
The lies I had made to myself, pretending that Jason was fine, that he did not desperately need home, and he seemed to get cold with me, to the point to something wich resembled hatred. He was so disconnected and seem to hold a pint of bitterness, like if I had personally decided to pluck him out of his happy space and drag him into his own personal hell. Which also happened to be my personal heaven. Until all this mess happened.
And what about the war? Peter seemed to hold it against her just like Jason blamed his presence in Narnia. What could she do? She had not asked to be here. She was happy here, she just didn't ask for it. Well, at least, she thought she was happy….
She was not. She was not happy. Something was off, unnatural. Things were awkward, weren't right. Nothing seemed real, everything seemed that since she was back, everything she had left behind was now crumbling.
Her thoughts went dark. Jason. Jason had betrayed them. He had brought the knife to the White Witch, for Aslan knew what reason. Did he hate her that much? Had she been that bad?
She wanted to cry all she had inside of her out, and wanted to feel nothing. She wanted things to get fixed, that the awkwardness would be gone, and that everything would go back to normal. She hated change. Nothing ever went right for her. When she had taken a chance to love Luke, taken a change in her way of thinking, that maybe, just maybe, he looked at her than more than just a friend…
She'd change way of living and gone with the Hunters of Artemis, and they had banned her for disobeying orders and leading them to help with the war.
Every chance she had taken had worked at first, and then terribly failed. Here it was again. Her world, the world she'd loved, the place which had let her escape her pains and suffering, was going to be destroyed by her brother.
The worst was she knew Jason HAD to have a reason. And SHE KNEW it was a good one, but he was being fooled and his emotions had him carried away. And she knew that if survive the destruction of Narnia, he would be broken. Because that's what humans do: They act without a thought on their emotions, barge straight into death foolishly, causing their very own, or the people who truly loved them, pain. She knew it. She'd done it several times.
Thalia sat up. No. She wasn't going to let her world, her life, be destroyed by her own brother, even less let him destroy himself.
Tada!
Hope you enjoyed.
Didn't really have time to revise it.
Drop a review please. It make me less sad. Have pity on this poor girl who's emotions are tied up in knots and thrown into hell. If that makes any sense…
Cia.
-lemonadelollipop