HAPPY INTERNATIONAL ANGST DAY!
The Lost One
A Danny Phantom FanFiction by Cordria
Part Three: Images
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There are pictures outside my window today. I stand at the farthest reaches of my silver chains, gazing at the almost-clear images that are greeting my eyes. They move and swirl, never staying in the same place long enough. It's almost sickening to watch, the kaleidoscope of colors and movements and shapes. I would have been sick, except I'm not sure if I've eaten anything in the past few years. Instead, I content myself with being merely dizzy to the point of needing to sit down every few minutes.
As soon as the dizziness passes, I'm up again, straining against my chains, desperate for the views my eyes are taking in. Beautiful green things that move and bend, a giant blue background that stretches on for all of eternity, and actual other people.
I have trouble looking at the people through the windows. They look so strange to my eyes, move so carelessly, seem not to care that I'm locked away so close but yet so far away from them. A few look my way, but none ever seem to actually see me. They just smile at something and move their lips and…
The sounds come. Da… co… pp… st… I've figured out that the strange sounds are coming from those other people, their voices, their words, and I know that someone is speaking even if I can't see them. The sounds are becoming ever so much clearer each time my prison shivers and shakes, the cracks growing ever larger. I'm finally able to realize that the sounds are all different – the tones and the notes and the volumes are unique for each person – but I'm still not sure I want to see the people. It's hard to see them when they don't see me back.
Images move beyond my curious eyes, bouncing slightly up and down, moving to the left and right, back and forth, always in that dizzying motion. Oh, how I wish that they would hold still for an eternity. No doubt I could spend the rest of my existence staring at just one of the images, much less all the ones I'm seeing. I want to make it stop, hold still, press the pause button…
What's a pause button? I look away, confused at the thought that has entered my mind. I'm somehow remembering something I've never seen before, never has known existed. A large box, a moving picture, a small controller with a pause button that makes the pictures stop. Where is that coming from? Why am I remembering such a thing?
My breath hitches in my throat at the unexpected development, the strange knowledge that has suddenly jumped into my mind, and my fingers instantly starting their calming tap against my leg. One, two, four, five, three, two… My eyes close, struggling to think calmly despite the sounds penetrating my prison. Go away, leave me alone, just let me sit here and be me and not think about weird things and let me be safe…
Finally my eyes open and I look back out the window, unable to keep my gaze away, enthralled by the displays, busily watching the world passing me by. I love the greens that I can see – every variance in shade causes a sparkle of happiness to course through me. Green is my favorite color of all. I haven't wondered how it is I know the names of the colors I'm seeing – my prison is nothing but silvers and grays and whites and blacks – and that is probably for the best. I just want to watch. Such a thing as wondering about colors would have sent me spiraling into something I couldn't handle.
I can see hands through the tiny windows and that fascinates me, fingers that are so like mine that hold things and touch things and play with things. Fingers that tap softly against walls and floors and tables. Fingers that, like mine, move constantly. Maybe I'm not so crazy after all.
One of the large, green objects I've taken a liking to – the word tree brushes up against my mind, but I push back fiercely, not wanting to know a word for something I've never seen before – is filling the windows. The tiny bits of green lodged up high in it move slightly back and forth, but everything is still, the picture having stopped its movement.
I'm pleased. I like the green; I like this thing I can see. I wish I could watch the little splashes – leaves – wiggle forever. Crossing my legs, floating in midair, I prop my chin on my hands and content myself to stare, lovingly, at the beautiful green.
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