FIC: The Swaying
Title: The Swaying
Rating: PG
Word Count: 609
January 6th, 2009; Wordpress.
Stop looking at me.
She spun through the rain in a flowery spring dress, staring up at the dark clouds, at the mist that clung around the metallic buildings. The rain fell around her, never touching; her body was surrounded by a soft sheen of fireflies, pushing the rain away from her. But sometimes she wanted to get wet, to say that she could have the experience, that she could honestly say that she remembered the experience. It had been so long.
You’re not supposed to be able to see me. Please, go.
She stopped suddenly and folded her arms close to her chest, brown eyes catching a single, small boy standing in the crowd that crossed the city street. He was unmoving, staring with fear at everyone and everything around him.
The rain didn’t touch him, either.
There he was; the one she had been trying to find. The little lost soul, wandering a bit of everywhere as if he was searching for his parents. But she knew that they were gone; they couldn’t bear to remain in the city where their young son was killed.
The light changed green and the cars were moving again. The boy stayed there, horrified, and she slipped around the busy street-goers (she could walk right through them, but sometimes she just wanted to avoid them and feel normal). She approached the boy (and all her normalcy vanished as the cars passed through their forms). “Let me bring you somewhere warm,” she told him, offering out a hand. He turned scared eyes up at her and she smiled, the fireflies flickering away from her and fluttering around the boy. He returned her smile, and took her hand.
“Okay.”
“Let’s go.” She pulled him through the cars and the people, passed a man that had been watching her - and now them - but it shouldn’t have been possible. He shouldn’t be able to see her. He was alive and they were not.
The man reached towards her, saying, “Hey - what exactly -” and before she finished she jerked away and screamed at him to go away. The living weren’t supposed to do this. THEY WEREN’T! She could be punished for this, even if it wasn’t her doing.
She hugged the young boy close and the fireflies danced around him. “You’ll be happy in the warmth,” she told him in a hushed, fast voice. He looked ready to question her, but the fireflies had taken his soul away, and without them her soft glower vanished; the rain still passed through her. It made her feel sick. She turned a glare at the man. She nearly told him: now you’ve ruined everything, but instead her expression softened and she said, “You shouldn’t contemplate suicide so strongly. It only brings you closer to death, and then you cannot enjoy the rain.”
His eyes widened in surprise and she slid back a step, folding her arms behind her back. “Life isn’t as bad as you make it out to be. You could be like that boy, I suppose. Are you? Are you looking for your parents, because something so terrible happened that you were separated from them?”
“I… no…”
“Smile,” she told him. Little by little, her fireflies were returning to her from their completed task. “Give life a chance.”
“…What are you?”
“I already told you.” She turned away before he could ask any more questions, and make the situation worse than it already had been. The fireflies moved her soul away, and above in the sky where she had been, the fog broke and a glimmer of sunlight pushed down through the rain and blinded him.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 609
January 6th, 2009; Wordpress.
Stop looking at me.
She spun through the rain in a flowery spring dress, staring up at the dark clouds, at the mist that clung around the metallic buildings. The rain fell around her, never touching; her body was surrounded by a soft sheen of fireflies, pushing the rain away from her. But sometimes she wanted to get wet, to say that she could have the experience, that she could honestly say that she remembered the experience. It had been so long.
You’re not supposed to be able to see me. Please, go.
She stopped suddenly and folded her arms close to her chest, brown eyes catching a single, small boy standing in the crowd that crossed the city street. He was unmoving, staring with fear at everyone and everything around him.
The rain didn’t touch him, either.
There he was; the one she had been trying to find. The little lost soul, wandering a bit of everywhere as if he was searching for his parents. But she knew that they were gone; they couldn’t bear to remain in the city where their young son was killed.
The light changed green and the cars were moving again. The boy stayed there, horrified, and she slipped around the busy street-goers (she could walk right through them, but sometimes she just wanted to avoid them and feel normal). She approached the boy (and all her normalcy vanished as the cars passed through their forms). “Let me bring you somewhere warm,” she told him, offering out a hand. He turned scared eyes up at her and she smiled, the fireflies flickering away from her and fluttering around the boy. He returned her smile, and took her hand.
“Okay.”
“Let’s go.” She pulled him through the cars and the people, passed a man that had been watching her - and now them - but it shouldn’t have been possible. He shouldn’t be able to see her. He was alive and they were not.
The man reached towards her, saying, “Hey - what exactly -” and before she finished she jerked away and screamed at him to go away. The living weren’t supposed to do this. THEY WEREN’T! She could be punished for this, even if it wasn’t her doing.
She hugged the young boy close and the fireflies danced around him. “You’ll be happy in the warmth,” she told him in a hushed, fast voice. He looked ready to question her, but the fireflies had taken his soul away, and without them her soft glower vanished; the rain still passed through her. It made her feel sick. She turned a glare at the man. She nearly told him: now you’ve ruined everything, but instead her expression softened and she said, “You shouldn’t contemplate suicide so strongly. It only brings you closer to death, and then you cannot enjoy the rain.”
His eyes widened in surprise and she slid back a step, folding her arms behind her back. “Life isn’t as bad as you make it out to be. You could be like that boy, I suppose. Are you? Are you looking for your parents, because something so terrible happened that you were separated from them?”
“I… no…”
“Smile,” she told him. Little by little, her fireflies were returning to her from their completed task. “Give life a chance.”
“…What are you?”
“I already told you.” She turned away before he could ask any more questions, and make the situation worse than it already had been. The fireflies moved her soul away, and above in the sky where she had been, the fog broke and a glimmer of sunlight pushed down through the rain and blinded him.