Richard, "the only thing that's left to do is live", pg
Title; The only thing that's left to do is live
Characters; Richard, Alex
Rating; pg
Words; 1, 149
Disclaimer; I do not own them, I just like playing with them.
A/N; Written for lostfichallenge #90: Richard Alpert.
Richard's mind is endless.
--
There are dark corners, filled with bright red blood and screams that had long since died and people that were forgotten.
Except by him.
There are even darker corners, in which he can see himself wrapping his hands around someone's neck and watching the life slip out of him, watching his limbs getting weaker, heart rate slowing down under the pressure of his fingers.
All for the good of the island.
A high price to pay for a man without a purpose, a small price to pay for him. For the island.
--
He remembers everything, stores everything in the jungle of his head. The real jungle does not pose a threat to him, for he knows it as well as he knows his own.
He knows every leaf, every hill and tree, knows exactly where the boars live, what the birds sing and every pool and every rock. He is not the island, but as close as anybody can get without being buried underneath its rich and sometimes unforgiving soil.
Unforgiving, but righteous.
--
There are light corners inside his mind too. Events lighting up as if the sun is constantly upon them, warming his being whenever he sits down and lets the images play in front of his eyes.
The image that is always there, just out of reach, is Alex. Alex running towards him as a toddler; Alex with hair blowing in the wind, sitting next to him asking her never-ending stream of questions; Alex as a teenager; Alex dead, her fragile body broken and hair caked with blood that looked black under the light moon. He had not looked at her face when he buried her.
--
Alex had always been one of the most fascinating people he had ever known. There was something special about her, not like their leaders needed to be, but different. She was the only one he could have long conversations with without getting bored, she was the only one that he wanted to know more about. The only that he had cared for in a very, very long time.
Her eyes were deeper than he was used to and he was always surprised at her energy, at her strong will and complete commitment to anything she set her mind to. Which, strangely enough, was finding out more about him. She wanted to know everything, wanted to know his secrets. That was nothing new to him, people had tired him asking him about him, but there was something so unselfish to her questions, something that made him believe she truly cared to know, cared for him, instead of just wanting to know more than anybody else.
Alex had been like the refreshing rains that made the island look so much greener, so much more bright and made the air smell like new life. When he thought he'd seen everything, there was always Alex.
Until Keamy and his men came and he was too late to save her. This belonged to the blackest corners of his mind, to hidden places he never visited, yet so dangerously close to the happy memories - Alex with days worth of mud on her grinning face, Alex with a broken arm from falling down a tree watching him write his name on her cast - that filled him with new life when he thought of them.
In the end, the happy memories outshone the dark corners he did not visit, but knew were inevitably there.
--
There is a reason he is the one that selects their future leaders, he sees things, feels things that others cannot. He has seen more than he often wishes he had seen, but there is so much happiness and so much beauty, that he cannot help but be happy that he was chosen to be the island's messenger.
--
There is only one thing Richard does not remember.
His childhood.
Sometimes, there are fragments of smells that bring him back to a past he does not know, flashes gone before he can hold onto them, but that is also part of the price he had to pay. He does not remember how he came to be, or what lead him to be the person that he is today, but he knows this is how it must be.
He could not know who he was, who he had been or perhaps could have been.
It had been his choice.
The ultimate sacrifice to starting this life.
--
Green fields stretching out below, trees at the end of it and the sun high in the sky.
"Don't you remember your own birthday?"
"No."
"Then it doesn't matter when I give you your present, right?"
"You have a present for me?"
"Yes."
An nine-year-old Alex smiles as the hands you the gift, gently removing the wrapping paper she probably spent hours on trying to get it right. The tip of her tongue is visible through her lips and her eyes sparkle with excitement. He opens the little box and smiles, which is already enough to make Alex jump up and dance around him.
Inside the box is a book called The Never Ending Story. He smiles again at how appropriate her choice is and imagines how they will laugh at this when she grows old enough to realise this herself.
"It's my favourite book. I don't know why, but it always makes me think of you and I wanted to give you this for a long time, but nobody ever knew your birthday and if you don't even know yourself, I can give you a present any time I want!"
"Thank you, Alex."
She smiles again and she hugs you, her arms around your neck, long, brown hair flying on the wind.
--
Yes, Alex had been one of the most fascinating people he had ever known. The horror of her mangled body in his arms still haunted him, but there were always moments that were more powerful and he knew that one day, the island would take back the pain that he would bear until the time was right.
Richard knew, if the island decided it was time, he would see her again and spend hours talking to her, listening to her voice underneath the sun and her hair blowing in the wind, watching that same field filled with grass as green as it gets and the beach in the distance with the endless ocean behind it.
--
Endless, for Richard's mind was endless as well.
Characters; Richard, Alex
Rating; pg
Words; 1, 149
Disclaimer; I do not own them, I just like playing with them.
A/N; Written for lostfichallenge #90: Richard Alpert.
Richard's mind is endless.
--
There are dark corners, filled with bright red blood and screams that had long since died and people that were forgotten.
Except by him.
There are even darker corners, in which he can see himself wrapping his hands around someone's neck and watching the life slip out of him, watching his limbs getting weaker, heart rate slowing down under the pressure of his fingers.
All for the good of the island.
A high price to pay for a man without a purpose, a small price to pay for him. For the island.
--
He remembers everything, stores everything in the jungle of his head. The real jungle does not pose a threat to him, for he knows it as well as he knows his own.
He knows every leaf, every hill and tree, knows exactly where the boars live, what the birds sing and every pool and every rock. He is not the island, but as close as anybody can get without being buried underneath its rich and sometimes unforgiving soil.
Unforgiving, but righteous.
--
There are light corners inside his mind too. Events lighting up as if the sun is constantly upon them, warming his being whenever he sits down and lets the images play in front of his eyes.
The image that is always there, just out of reach, is Alex. Alex running towards him as a toddler; Alex with hair blowing in the wind, sitting next to him asking her never-ending stream of questions; Alex as a teenager; Alex dead, her fragile body broken and hair caked with blood that looked black under the light moon. He had not looked at her face when he buried her.
--
Alex had always been one of the most fascinating people he had ever known. There was something special about her, not like their leaders needed to be, but different. She was the only one he could have long conversations with without getting bored, she was the only one that he wanted to know more about. The only that he had cared for in a very, very long time.
Her eyes were deeper than he was used to and he was always surprised at her energy, at her strong will and complete commitment to anything she set her mind to. Which, strangely enough, was finding out more about him. She wanted to know everything, wanted to know his secrets. That was nothing new to him, people had tired him asking him about him, but there was something so unselfish to her questions, something that made him believe she truly cared to know, cared for him, instead of just wanting to know more than anybody else.
Alex had been like the refreshing rains that made the island look so much greener, so much more bright and made the air smell like new life. When he thought he'd seen everything, there was always Alex.
Until Keamy and his men came and he was too late to save her. This belonged to the blackest corners of his mind, to hidden places he never visited, yet so dangerously close to the happy memories - Alex with days worth of mud on her grinning face, Alex with a broken arm from falling down a tree watching him write his name on her cast - that filled him with new life when he thought of them.
In the end, the happy memories outshone the dark corners he did not visit, but knew were inevitably there.
--
There is a reason he is the one that selects their future leaders, he sees things, feels things that others cannot. He has seen more than he often wishes he had seen, but there is so much happiness and so much beauty, that he cannot help but be happy that he was chosen to be the island's messenger.
--
There is only one thing Richard does not remember.
His childhood.
Sometimes, there are fragments of smells that bring him back to a past he does not know, flashes gone before he can hold onto them, but that is also part of the price he had to pay. He does not remember how he came to be, or what lead him to be the person that he is today, but he knows this is how it must be.
He could not know who he was, who he had been or perhaps could have been.
It had been his choice.
The ultimate sacrifice to starting this life.
--
Green fields stretching out below, trees at the end of it and the sun high in the sky.
"Don't you remember your own birthday?"
"No."
"Then it doesn't matter when I give you your present, right?"
"You have a present for me?"
"Yes."
An nine-year-old Alex smiles as the hands you the gift, gently removing the wrapping paper she probably spent hours on trying to get it right. The tip of her tongue is visible through her lips and her eyes sparkle with excitement. He opens the little box and smiles, which is already enough to make Alex jump up and dance around him.
Inside the box is a book called The Never Ending Story. He smiles again at how appropriate her choice is and imagines how they will laugh at this when she grows old enough to realise this herself.
"It's my favourite book. I don't know why, but it always makes me think of you and I wanted to give you this for a long time, but nobody ever knew your birthday and if you don't even know yourself, I can give you a present any time I want!"
"Thank you, Alex."
She smiles again and she hugs you, her arms around your neck, long, brown hair flying on the wind.
--
Yes, Alex had been one of the most fascinating people he had ever known. The horror of her mangled body in his arms still haunted him, but there were always moments that were more powerful and he knew that one day, the island would take back the pain that he would bear until the time was right.
Richard knew, if the island decided it was time, he would see her again and spend hours talking to her, listening to her voice underneath the sun and her hair blowing in the wind, watching that same field filled with grass as green as it gets and the beach in the distance with the endless ocean behind it.
--
Endless, for Richard's mind was endless as well.