Post by Serenity Nashimura on Oct 20, 2011 19:22:50 GMT -5
So, this is something I wrote in my Creat!ve Writing class. The prompt was simply: Albino, Pistol, Strawberry. For whatever reason, I immediately thought of Serenity and this happened. It has nothing to do with my actual character besides design. Serenity would never do this. xD
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Her eyes were that of strawberries, bright red with almost unnoticeable flecks of black. They seemed to stare into her soul, seemed to read her mind. Those damned eyes bored into her and made her become a statue yet shake at the same time. She felt like her spine had frozen over while she caught flame from the intensity of the stare.
“Serenity,” the red-eyed girl said strongly, voice ringing through the apartment. “Put the gun down.”
As if it had been called, the gun began to shake. The small machine seemed to whisper in her head, telling her that it was alright. That just one flex of her finger could make it all go away. That the shadows would stop stalking her and the voices would be finally silent.
“Serenity.”
She looked through her tears at the albino girl before her. Her red eyes seemed to glow in the dark coffin of the room, like a demon come to take her down, down, down to pay her dues. The gun seemed to shine, drawing her eyes to look at it. The bright silver metal reflected her face back to her. It was distorted, the blue eyes stretching and strawberry red lips pulled down in a deep frown. Serenity looked away from the image and placed the tip of the pistol back to the side of her head.
“I said, put the gun down, Serenity,” the voice of the red-eyed girl warned again. She took a few steps closer to where Serenity was kneeling, hand stretched forward. The crying girl shook her head slowly, not being able to look her friend in the eye.
The tears continued to run down Serenity's face. They tasted of salt as they touched her lips and raced over her tongue. They gathered above the frog in her throat before she swallowed it down and choked out, “I-I have to.”
“No, you don't,” the albino girl said, continuously coming closer, a step at a time, afraid that at any second the blue-eyed girl's finger would curl and wall would be spattered in red. “No, you don't, Serenity.”
“Yes, I do, Bianca!” said the kneeling figure. “You don't understand! Th-they keep talking to me! They'll never leave me alone unless I - unless I do this!”
Bianca was less than a foot away but did not move. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears, making the room pulse.
“I can help you, Serenity, I promise,” Bianca swore, though how she could help, she didn't know. She just had to get the gun away from her friend. Ever since the accident, Serenity hadn't been the same. Claiming that something was haunting her steps, that she was never alone, and whispers that cried that it had been her fault. But Bianca hadn't listened. She just thought her friend had been stressed. But now she knew...
Serenity looked up, eyes huge and blue, windows the reflected the curled up soul that wanted to be free of all the hurt and pain. “I hear him,” she whispered, voice croaking. “Every night, he speaks to me.”
“Serenity,” Bianca said gently, trying to mimick the soft tone of a comforting mother. “Cecil's death was not your fault.”
Her eyes were that of clear, summer days. A picture of her old self, serene and happy, the smile in the picture that draws you closer, the light laughter brighter than the stars. For a moment, Serenity was who she had been. Her bright red lips stretched upwards, making the bottom of those damned eyes crinkle. Bianca was hopeful for a heartbeat, then heard the click and knew it was over.
BANG!
Red painted the walls, the floor, her shirt, her soul. It flew like a bird through the room and seemed to drain all the colors, leaving only black and white, until the red was the only thing left. Her lips were still in that small smile, as delicate and bright as a strawberry.
---
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.
Bianca watched the line jump up and down, painting a picture of life in a single stroke. The tone vibrated through the room, stealing away all other sounds. Her red eyes looked only at the line, refusing to look at those drained lips, the closed eyes, and the white bandages.
Coma. Tose. Coma. Tose.
The words echoed through her mind, like the machine was reminding her of the doctor's words.
No. Memories. No. Memories.
Each sound beat against her skull, seeped into her skin and raced through her heart. Bianca looked at her friend.
The bandages looked thick as rope as they held the girl together. New lines marked her face, as if her experience had aged her. They had cut away her brown hair, so to extract the bullet. The one that hadn't killed her. The bullet that had taken away her memories. In the end, Bianca knew two things.
Serenity would live, but not because of Bianca.
But because of a bullet to the head.
--------------
Her eyes were that of strawberries, bright red with almost unnoticeable flecks of black. They seemed to stare into her soul, seemed to read her mind. Those damned eyes bored into her and made her become a statue yet shake at the same time. She felt like her spine had frozen over while she caught flame from the intensity of the stare.
“Serenity,” the red-eyed girl said strongly, voice ringing through the apartment. “Put the gun down.”
As if it had been called, the gun began to shake. The small machine seemed to whisper in her head, telling her that it was alright. That just one flex of her finger could make it all go away. That the shadows would stop stalking her and the voices would be finally silent.
“Serenity.”
She looked through her tears at the albino girl before her. Her red eyes seemed to glow in the dark coffin of the room, like a demon come to take her down, down, down to pay her dues. The gun seemed to shine, drawing her eyes to look at it. The bright silver metal reflected her face back to her. It was distorted, the blue eyes stretching and strawberry red lips pulled down in a deep frown. Serenity looked away from the image and placed the tip of the pistol back to the side of her head.
“I said, put the gun down, Serenity,” the voice of the red-eyed girl warned again. She took a few steps closer to where Serenity was kneeling, hand stretched forward. The crying girl shook her head slowly, not being able to look her friend in the eye.
The tears continued to run down Serenity's face. They tasted of salt as they touched her lips and raced over her tongue. They gathered above the frog in her throat before she swallowed it down and choked out, “I-I have to.”
“No, you don't,” the albino girl said, continuously coming closer, a step at a time, afraid that at any second the blue-eyed girl's finger would curl and wall would be spattered in red. “No, you don't, Serenity.”
“Yes, I do, Bianca!” said the kneeling figure. “You don't understand! Th-they keep talking to me! They'll never leave me alone unless I - unless I do this!”
Bianca was less than a foot away but did not move. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears, making the room pulse.
“I can help you, Serenity, I promise,” Bianca swore, though how she could help, she didn't know. She just had to get the gun away from her friend. Ever since the accident, Serenity hadn't been the same. Claiming that something was haunting her steps, that she was never alone, and whispers that cried that it had been her fault. But Bianca hadn't listened. She just thought her friend had been stressed. But now she knew...
Serenity looked up, eyes huge and blue, windows the reflected the curled up soul that wanted to be free of all the hurt and pain. “I hear him,” she whispered, voice croaking. “Every night, he speaks to me.”
“Serenity,” Bianca said gently, trying to mimick the soft tone of a comforting mother. “Cecil's death was not your fault.”
Her eyes were that of clear, summer days. A picture of her old self, serene and happy, the smile in the picture that draws you closer, the light laughter brighter than the stars. For a moment, Serenity was who she had been. Her bright red lips stretched upwards, making the bottom of those damned eyes crinkle. Bianca was hopeful for a heartbeat, then heard the click and knew it was over.
BANG!
Red painted the walls, the floor, her shirt, her soul. It flew like a bird through the room and seemed to drain all the colors, leaving only black and white, until the red was the only thing left. Her lips were still in that small smile, as delicate and bright as a strawberry.
---
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.
Bianca watched the line jump up and down, painting a picture of life in a single stroke. The tone vibrated through the room, stealing away all other sounds. Her red eyes looked only at the line, refusing to look at those drained lips, the closed eyes, and the white bandages.
Coma. Tose. Coma. Tose.
The words echoed through her mind, like the machine was reminding her of the doctor's words.
No. Memories. No. Memories.
Each sound beat against her skull, seeped into her skin and raced through her heart. Bianca looked at her friend.
The bandages looked thick as rope as they held the girl together. New lines marked her face, as if her experience had aged her. They had cut away her brown hair, so to extract the bullet. The one that hadn't killed her. The bullet that had taken away her memories. In the end, Bianca knew two things.
Serenity would live, but not because of Bianca.
But because of a bullet to the head.
