Here is a story, I was writing about last time. Originally it is
here. As you can see, this is part 1. Yes, it means that there is also a part 2. It seems to me that I am insane, but it isn't anything exactly new, is it?
So, enjoy part 1, because it is good and beta-read and I take it serious. Second one will be... OK, the best word is sirious *giggling demonically and hoping, you all understand the joke*
Title: A Letter to Pegasus
Author:
josika Rating: PG
Words: 550
Warnings: Character death, angst
Spoilers: None
Summary: McKay will help you. If anything happens to me, ask him for help.
Disclaimer: Not mine, just borrowed.
Notes: beta-read by
e_danae (thanks for her). This is my first time in this community. Please, tell me about all my mistakes.
A Letter to Pegasus (part 1)Brno, 2nd November
Dear Dr McKay,
Forgive me bothering you when I don’t even know, if you have ever heard of me. And forgive me the mistakes in this letter; English is not my mother language. Blame the Czech education system and that alcoholic thing made of plums (Slivovice, if you are interesed).
Well, I am daughter of your former colleague Dr Radek Zelenka. I hadn’t seen much of him before it happened (and I strongly believe that you know what IT means), but on those rare occasions he always said you were “osina v zadku” (it is something like pain in ass, just in case you don’t know), but he liked you, he thought highly of you, he relied on you. All that staff that people feel about friends. I guess it means that you are supposed to help us now. Or not supposed… it is just… he said: “McKay will help you. If anything happens to me, ask him for help. If he’s not willing, threaten him with citrus.” He didn’t mean situation like this, I guess. And he also didn’t mean the last sentence (but still, I have lemon, and I am not afraid to use it).
I know this is silly. It is more than silly, because I have never believed in ghosts or - to be honest - in God. But what am I supposed to do? I missed my father a lot, but this is not how I want him back! A strange sad figure creeping through rooms and sometimes just sitting in the garden. Telling nothing. Startled by birds and planes. Sometimes whispering into the dark strange things about flying death and vampires. Sometimes tiptoeing to my bed in the night. I could feel his cold fingers in my hair. I cut my hair because of it, do prdele (and don’t even try to pretend, you aren’t familiar with this one)!
OK, I understand how crazy it sounds, but we are living in it! My mum has started taking pills and I am able to deal with this only because of cigarettes and Slivovice (and vodka, and vine in better days). Just like some stupid accursed poet. Or Poe. Yes, I feel just like Edgar Alan Poe. “And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor. Shall be lifted - nevermore!” Maybe I should buy Absinth, but I hate the color. OK, I know it is pathetic. This letter is pathetic. Maybe insane. We all are going insane. We are living in a horror movie. The one with a house full of crazy people.
I am incoherent. Sorry about it. Dad always told me that miracles happened in that city of yours and that you were clever and competent enough to do the miracle. Today is All Souls Day. Ideal constellation, isn’t it? Because now, I need a miracle. So if you ever were friend of my dad, do something. Stop this! Please, if there is any way, come and tell him, he is not guilty for what has happened to you. To all of you. Please, tell him, there is nothing he can do. He doesn’t believe us. Maybe he will believe you. Tell him, he can’t live like this forever. He isn’t dead.
You are.
Yours sincerely,
Eliška Zelenková