"I don't need to be a hero. I'd settle for the feeling that what I did everyday had a significance to someone besides myself."
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Vivienne's POV
It was a creaky sound going back and forth making it sound more or less like a whispered laughter sending me fifth form of chills running down my spine. My steps toward start telling me otherwise than my guts but apparently stupidity is sometimes a little wiser than cowardness. And honestly? For people who have nothing to lose, stupidity is always a priority. But I usually hear that someone always has something to lose. But I don't know what's the point of anything after losing yourself.
The midnight clock ticks like a warning, and I think I'm regretting all of my life decisions at the moment, nothing new about that of course.
I... That was,
The room, parents used to live in. Where I took my first steps. Learned to laugh. Learn to learn. Learned that blood always doesn't flow just from enemies. My past drowned like alcohol down a set of old staircases. I wish I could feel sad. Maybe pity. Anything. Just not a foreigner to the body I'm trapped within now. I could relive and pity myself. But it's like.... past five years weren't in between at all. I'm still fourteen and I'll eventually go back to the place I called home.
The room is in ruins now. It goes deep inside, so of course it is in ruins. I see names. And names. Repeatedly one name just. Zephyrine. Oddly familiar to me. I caress it. And it hurts. Somewhere. Somehow. Like a distant spark of deep deep agony that is yet to approach. Then I'm just mad. So, I want to scratch it out. My nails are wearing out. Fingers in blood. It doesn't fade. It doesn't fade. It doesn't fade. I say it. Pronouncing the syllables. Zephyrine.
So weird. So many voices and it shivers me inside out. Like an electricity running down. I reach over at the wooden structure more or less like a door. I don't remember much about her...for some reason. But I could never forget her obsession with doors. Which was odd. But nothing was common about her really. Hence, I wasn't surprised. But it was weird. Like it was calling me out. Though it was weird. It wasn't calling me out. It was calling out a part of me I myself don't know.
Can I get out of this misery? Can I not wake up every morning so addicted to pain? This feeling is familiarly weird. My thoughts are racing out in a faraway land. Maybe to a land that doesn't have to exist.
I see the door has a handle. I click on it. I click on it. Repeatedly. But it's not a handle. It's just a part of the showpiece. Yet that triggers me. Such a fragile creature I am. Such a pity. Such a pity.
I opened it. I do not know if I imagined some kind of portal or a traverse. Maybe I'm high on pills. But for all I know, the thing I see right now is none of it. Because the thing I see is.
Just a brick wall. Like it's blocking something. And it reminds me of some predictably stupid fairytales. What an irony, I actually hoped for one, till I realized every fairytale depends on each person, and for my fairytale? It's just a melancholic mourn of myself....to me myself.
I continuously keep caressing the brick wall. In another life, it would feel like it might be protecting me. But in this life, no one has anything to protect me from. I trace lines that could make sense after an hour of staring. Anyone could just walk away. But I have nothing better to walk away to, so I stay. I trace the outline of a........................................woman? Not exactly, but a figure enough to express it's a woman with her hands reaching out.
Reaching out?
To me?
It brings me memories. Bad. Bad ones. And I want to sweep them away, but they have been carved on every inch of my screen. Because they weren't my past. That's all it was. Because my present and future is that two-way road but one destination-The end.
And before I know, I doze off. The already darkened world blacks out.
I dream of my mother. I never dreamt of her. He made me forget her appearance. Yet I see her, I see her like she never got dragged out of my life. Never. She's laughing, she's laughing so loud, just like she used to whenever she stayed up all night after a week of exhausting school hours to have a board games session with us. And how crazy we were, we thought it would never end. I'm smiling at her, why am I not calling her? Why isn't she taking me? She is laughing and walking by herself in the far away lush meadow, it's so tough, the land. But every time I want to walk up to her. She just seems far. But wasn't she all along? I feel laughing with her, but I can't, every time I try to, my heart clenches and reminds me the beat will once end. Maybe then.... maybe then? I'd then complain to her how on the weekends we never had a board games session after she went, how Gavril walked away afterwards and never came back. He went to mother, most definitely.
She finally looked at me, I'm desperately waving at her, and all of a sudden, the ground beneath me was pushing me away, my mother looked at me........horrendously. And screamed, she screamed, screamed. She's bleeding, her blood is in my hands. I'm shrieking at the mahogany liquid at my hands proving me something I never could be. And my heart finally stops beating, and that. That is when I wake up. A raven light beaming brightly. And I stand up?
I see a sky different from my world, and a land that doesn't make me think of my demise anymore.
