| Apr 12, 2013 23:17:46 GMT -5 |
Post by shtiya "alaska" landau on Apr 12, 2013 23:17:46 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0px,true] you wake up, you've been living alone after all these years surrounded by these shards of mirrors and how'd it get so quiet here, you wonder, where did everyone go? you tried so hard to make people remember you for something you were not and if they so remember you then something else will certainly get forgotten now i've only got one organ left and this old bag of bones it is failing me i try to tell people that i'm dying only they don't believe me they say we're all dying, that we're all dying but if you are dying, why aren't you scared? why aren't you scared like i'm scared? tell me god oh, where did you go? Of course she was a burden. For so long now she had lived under Ivan’s control, being forced to conform to whatever his needs were at the time. She knew that she was nothing more than a source of entertainment—a sort of specimen, if you will, that is observed under a microscope and altered for amusement. If she was going to be his royal clown, she was going to be fucking appreciated. Alaska never had any problems with standing her ground in front of Ivan. Of course it took some pushing, but he always managed to knock her down again. She hated to say that she was offended when he became bored with her, but she was. Finally, she had gotten used to this relationship of ‘if I say jump, you say how high’ and had learned how far she could push him until he snapped. And here he was, ready to toss her aside. She frankly enjoyed the thought of finally getting away from Ivan but she had no idea what he was actually up to. No, freedom was not an option. Freedom was never an option. She supposed she could’ve been handed over to much worse, like that damn Spaniard who waltzed in one day and left a mess, but she had only just met this kid—so much younger than she was, even—and she already hated him. And it wasn’t a trade either; not some kind of agreement on behalf of ‘oh, you’re someone else’s problem now’. No, every single square mile was sold away. Two cents an acre—that was all she was worth. She stood at the back of a roomful of men, listening to them whisper about how this wasn’t worth it and this was an awful idea. Alaska was amazed at the sense of self-restraint she managed at that moment and was even more amazed that she didn’t try to kill the nearest person. As soon as the final documents were signed, she left, not caring enough to properly meet the men who didn’t really want her in the first place. She couldn’t exactly recall what happened on her way home. The last thing she recalled before everything became a blur was that she stopped at the edge of the woods and let out a loud, frustrated scream and relentlessly right hooking a tree before stumbling home, her hand completely broken now. She didn’t even think about the possibility of opening up her door with her left hand and instead decided to kick her door open as she grumbled a few dozen curses under her breath. But that just wasn’t enough. Without the use of her right hand, Alaska continued about her house, kicking things and knocking things over until her small, bland living room was somehow a mess. She quickly turned, knocking over the last standing table as she did so and started towards the kitchen, hungry to throw a few plates. She stomped over furniture and whatever else was on the floor, still cursing anything and everything as she reached up into the cabinet and pulled out a plate only to throw it down right at her feet. She paid no mind to the mess she was building on top of herself and instead grabbed her last plate with both her hands and raised it above her head to slam it to the ground. And just then she heard someone else, calling her name faintly. She was sure that it was louder than that but she only heard it as a soft call. She gasped, turning to see Matthew standing in the archway to her kitchen, her last plate still raised above her head. made by ayu of back to neverland |
