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 Posted: Sat Apr 28, 2012 5:45 pm
Quote: gaia_nitemareright [ The Reality: ] You wake up, and are surprised to see you are surrounded by your friends, and family. They are smiling at you, encouraging you. It is peaceful where you are, you are living in a small cot, a small haven, a place where you feel truly at peace. You can smell the warmth of the place, a place built from your happiest memories. You feel secure and at peace.
Days pass by, everything seems perfect, every day another beautiful moment. And yet, you feel a strange heaviness in your heart after each day, as if this was not meant to be. As if you should not be here. It tears into you, and unable to bear it much longer, you ask one of your friends or family members where you are. They tell you it doesn't matter, and you should stay. If you stay here, you will be here forever, it doesn't matter where your body really is. Horrified, you try to leave, but as they chase after you and try to cajole you, you realize there is only one exit.... Just before you attempt to take your own life, you truly wake up for real, or is your body still sleeping and rotting somewhere?. Word Count: 2,000 exactly.
(not including song lyrics)
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Posted: Sat Apr 28, 2012 8:07 pm
You know, I wish this night would never be over
There's plenty of time to sleep when we die.
So let's just stay awake until we grow older
If I had my way, we'd never close our eyes.
Never close your eyes.
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Posted: Sat Apr 28, 2012 10:16 pm
"Gale."
A voice.
Who is calling me?
"Gale. Wake up."
What happens if I wake up?
"Don't wanna."
Laughter, bright and cheerful.
"Gale, wake up already. You're wasting the day, sleeping this late."
With a great deal of effort, he forces his eyes open. The sun is blindingly bright overhead, spilling golden rays of sunshine across the grass. For a few moments, he forgets where he is, squinting in the light and holding up a hand to shield his eyes, trying to shake off the throes of sleep.
"Why are you waking me up?" he asks, with a slight grumble. "I was comfortable."
She is looking at him with cheeky grin on her face, and he can't help but smile back. Something nags at him, deep inside, but he pushes it aside, pretends that it doesn't exist, shoves it down into the far reaches of his mind where it is dark and shadowy and lost.
This place is none of those things.
All he can see is green - a bright, emerald green, lighter shades tinged with yellow, darker shades mixed with browns and blues, all shifting together as the grass waves softly from side to side. It is as green as far as the eye can see, the sky a bright, brilliant blue and in the distance there is a small white cabin, with cream colored curtains on each of the open windows. A gentle breeze drifts across the plains, ruffling his hair.
She is smiling at him again.
"Come on," she says, and offers her hand. With a slight grunt, and a roll of his eyes, he takes it, trying to ignore the twinge in his stomach at the touch of their fingers together, feeling the small gesture. She pulls him to his feet, and he stands there for a minute, his hand lifted to hold above his eyes, his gaze sweeping over their surroundings.
"What are we doing here?" he asks. There is a small pinch of confusion in his brows.
She shakes her head. "Silly," she admonishes him, and points her finger in his face, grinning mischievously. "Don't you remember? You fell asleep in the grass in the middle of our game! I tried to wake you up, but you were totally out of it."
He doesn't remember this - and yet he does. A smile slowly crosses his face.
"Race you back."
He doesn't wait for her to respond and instead just takes off, his feet pounding in the grass, over the dirt. She squeals somewhere behind him, and he can hear her running after him, her laughter filling the air, filling his head and his heart with the sound. He looks behind her, watching her run, and then pushes forward, determined to win.
Which he does.
"You cheated," she gasps out, when she manages to catch her breath and he grins, spinning around to catch her in his arms. Giggling madly, she presses a kiss to his lips, and it sends shivers of happiness up and down his spine.
"Come on," she says, and winks, taking his hand. "Everyone's waiting for us."
Inside the house, there are dozens of people crowded inside already, all of them talking, laughing, telling stories. A hand claps his shoulder.
"Gale," says a familiar voice, and a young man with vibrantly red hair leans around him, grinning widely. "Glad to see Sleeping Beauty finally awoke!"
"Shut up, Ben," he says, and pushes him away, laughing.
He can hear Candace's voice somewhere, his "sister" beckoning to him. She's sitting with her legs drawn up, leaning against her husband, and beside her, lying on her stomach on the floor, is another, playing with her hair and talking animatedly on the phone to someone. He waves at them and then looks for her, looks for the flash of golden hair so similar to his own.
Leslie is with her best friend, and she motions him over eagerly, wanting to show him something. Long white hair wrapped around his neck, as usual, Ferdinand makes a face at something she says, and the carrot topped, redheaded young woman beside him, giggles, her curls bouncing. She pushes him, and he pushes her back, and then says something cheerfully. All three of them laugh.
The sound is so nice.
Gale reaches behind him, making sure his fingers are wrapped around hers, and she smiles at him, stepping closer, her dark hair falling over her slim shoulders.
"Don't go anywhere," he tells her, in mock seriousness, and she laughs, leaning forward to kiss him again. His arms automatically go around her waist, and she feels snug and warm and just right.
"Never."
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Posted: Sat Apr 28, 2012 10:17 pm
Life's too short to even care at all oh
I'm losing my mind losing my mind losing control
These fishes in the sea they're staring at me oh oh
Oh oh oh oh
A wet world aches for a beat of a drum
Oh
If I could find a way to see this straight
I'd run away
To some fortune that I should have found by now
I'm waiting for this cough syrup to come down, come down
Life's too short to even care at all oh
I'm coming up now coming up now out of the blue
These zombies in the park they're looking for my heart
Oh oh oh oh
A dark world aches for a splash of the sun oh oh
If I could find a way to see this straight
I'd run away
To some fortune that I should have found by now
And so I run now to the things they said could restore me
Restore life the way it should be
I'm waiting for this cough syrup to come down
Life's too short to even care at all oh
I'm losing my mind losing my mind losing control
If I could find a way to see this straight
I'd run away
To some fortune that I should have found by now
So I run now to the things they said could restore me
Restore life the way it should be
I'm waiting for this cough syrup to come down
One more spoon of cough syrup now
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Posted: Sat Apr 28, 2012 10:29 pm
It has been three weeks.
Sometimes he wonders about this, about his life. There has been a nagging feeling in his head, like he's forgetting about something important, but every time it arises he just pushes it away again, not wanting to remember whatever it is that he's forgotten.
He loves his life. He loves her.
There are days when Ben comes over, just to say hi, his head of red hair always so startling bright and looking as though he just breezed in through town. He sits in the chair beside the little fireplace (unlit, at this time of year), and props his feet up on the table, his hands linked behind his head as if it were his own house.
She thinks it's funny. Gale just rolls his eyes.
Other days it's Leslie, with Fini in tow, and the two of them giggle and laugh like sisters, curling up on the floor or playing with the dogs in the backyard. They have two of them, named - inexplicably - Jinhai and Karma. She thinks they're cute names, but as usual he just lets her be the one to decide.
Fini and Leslie like to sneak into his room and steal the Batman shirt and then run around the house with it. Sometimes he comes home to find the two of them hiding in the closet, barely containing their laughter, like two little girls caught with their hands in the cookie jar.
Candace and her husband come to dinner once a week, every Tuesday night, and the four of them sit and talk and laugh about how Gale can't cook and how the roast is burnt yet again. He tries to defend himself, keeping his chin held high and pretending he doesn't care, but she just takes his hand and squeezes it, and he remembers why they're all friends and how lucky he is.
Ferdinand comes too, with Molly at his side, always there. Milton, Davey, Saya, Marcus and Cass (he rarely sees one without the other, after all), Clarice, Clerise, Julie, Ariane, Jordan, Ennéa, Wilson, Kat, Ryan, everyone, one after the other. Even his parents.
Everything is perfect.
Except him.
As the days go by, it becomes harder for him to push aside the nagging feeling in his head. His chest feels tighter and tighter with each passing hour, almost as if he is suffocating from the inside out. He does not want to admit to himself what he is trying to run from.
Something is wrong.
Something is not right.
This is not real.
More time passes. He becomes withdrawn, heavy hearted. She asks him why he isn't talking as much as he used to, her worry for him making him feel cold and frustrated.
She say she loves him. He cannot say it back without feeling a sharp jabbing sensation to his stomach.
Something is wrong.
More days come and go.
"Ben," he says, one day when the pain is almost unbearable, and his head is feeling so filled with thoughts, his heart wrenching in two. In his hands he holds a small letter opener, which he has just used, the letter sitting in his lap. "Ben, what is this? I don't understand.
"Where am I?"
The redhead is sitting in his normal place by the fire, legs stretched out in front of him, reclining as usual and looking comfortable, replete, and at ease. He looks surprised at the question, however, and shrugs.
"Does it matter? You're here, aren't you?"
Am I?
"But where am I?" he presses, and Ben shrugs again, his shock of red hair still so vibrantly bright in the late afternoon, nearing evening.
"You're here," he says again. "Just stay here. You don't need to go anywhere else. Who cares where the rest of you is?"
The rest of me?
"You can just stay here forever, can't you?"
Can I?
She is standing beside him, her gentle hand touching his shoulder, but the touch burns into him, sharp and jagged, and he stands up, pushing his chair aside. It falls to the ground with a clatter, so loud in the otherwise quiet home.
"Gale?" she asks, and her voice is soft, an air of perplexity in it. "What are you doing? Just relax, honey. Sit down, and stay with us. We'll always be here, together. Don't you want that?"
Don't I?
No.
"This isn't real," he whispers, and it cuts into him, sears through his veins. She is looking at him with a look so filled with love and devotion that it's almost as if he can feel his heart shattering in his chest.
He can't take this anymore.
Outside the sky is growing darker, the twilight turning into evening. He can see the soft glow of the fireflies as they blink in and out of sight, hear the quiet, familiar chirping of the crickets as they play their song. There is a soft wind blowing, and it tousles his hair, short and blonde against his cheek.
None of this is real.
It is a lie, but a lie he wants desperately to believe.
"Gale?"
Her voice. He spins around, catching sight of her, and of Ben, as they walked towards him. They have followed him from the house, and now she reaches out a hand towards him, a hand he wants so badly to take, to reach out and feel her fingers in his, warm and familiar.
"Gale, come back," she says, and her voice is quietly pleading. "I love you. Just stay here with me, okay?"
His heart breaks. The pain is horrible.
"No," he says, and the word breaks in his throat. "No, I can't, I can't - "
"Come on," says Ben, and smiles. Even in the waning darkness Gale can still see the red of his hair. It's so starkly bright, scarlet against the blacks and blues.
Red, like blood.
"Gale," he says again, and this time his voice is not as nice as it has been. There is a sharper edge to it, and his smile looks less kind and more forced, a twist of his lips, curling upwards.
"Gale, come on."
"No," he says, but his voice is wavering, and he wants so badly to stay.
Waking up means going back to reality. It means going back to death, to destruction, to a life without all of this, without her, without him, without all of them.
But he can't stay here. He knows that, even if he doesn't want to.
"Gale."
They're both walking towards him, and their shadows stretch along the ground, twisting, undulating, curling up into a thick blackness that surrounds them, threatens to suffocate them all, choke the life out of everything he knows.
He is still holding the letter opener. His fingers tremble as he raises it.
"Gale, come back to us - "
Ben's voice.
"Please, just stay."
Her voice.
His heart breaks. His fingers are clutching the letter opener so tightly his knuckles are white, and he grips it in the air, moving into position. His head spins, their voices whirling around, filling his every thought, every fiber of his being -
I don't want to leave you.
I want to leave you.
I don't want to be alone anymore.
"STOP IT!" he screams, and he can feel the tears beginning in his eyes, sliding down his face.
"STOP ITTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!"
Everything turns white.
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Posted: Sat Apr 28, 2012 10:33 pm
Just close your eyes
The sun is going down
You'll be alright
No one can hurt you now
Come morning light
You and I'll be safe and sound
Don't you dare look out your window darling
Everything's on fire
The war outside our door keeps raging on
Hold on to this lullaby
Even when the music's gone
Gone
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