I met Alison the day my mother drowned my pet dog.
I had two, to be exact. Twins. Golden Retrievers. I had received them a year ago from my Grandmother Grunwald and they were little balls of puff and naivety and just two fervent, erratic and relentless heartbeats.
I needed one of those.
I had loved them very much.
I named one Bonnie and the other one Clyde and we would walk around the neighbourhood and they would reel in the children and I would rob them of all the hope in the world through whispers and glances and screams...
It’s what we did best.
Restore terror. Restore it when there was too much hope in the world because god forbid that people believe in such a fickle thing as hope and be blinded to everything but.
You need terror in this world. Terror is made up of blood and bones and fear and fear and bones and blood and terror.
I had tried to teach them to be mean, my dear little pups.
To be fuelled by rage and loneliness and to only look back if the sun set and the moon was trapped on the other side. I had told them stories about
The sun
and
the moon
and everyone’s inexplicable decision that they were fuelled by love.
But those people were blind.
Perhaps they had been staring at the sun too long. Perhaps they couldn’t figure out if the sun was something to stare for.
But the sun doesn’t set. The moon doesn’t strut across the stage and take its final bow daily, because time.
Time is a god damn liar and I wish I could slap it in the face and tell it, “No, you cannot define a day, a year, a decade to you.” That if I fall to the other side of the earth time will skip and rewind and replay and what is even a day anymore if it changes so.
Because time is a god damned liar and sunsets and sunrises don’t exist.
The sun and moon move around in circles like they were only ever born to fight.
They don’t rise to me.
They don’t settle to me.
They walk around the earth and forget that the world is cut into so many times and days and nights because it doesn’t matter like this anymore.
It doesn’t matter if you’re the sun and the moon. There is no night, there is no day, there is no rise or set or skip or jump or rewind or replay.
YOU ARE READING
THE B TEAM // Pretty Little Liars #WATTYS2014 #FANFICTION
Fanfiction"I’ve had many things stolen from me. Money, keys, credit cards, even my own heart, but none of that mattered more than stealing lies. People relied on the truth, but telling the truth to the wrong person at the wrong time results in nothing but ago...
