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Feb. 8th, 2009 11:23 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
crystalreport.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
kh_drabbleTheme: [176] Very Important Person
Title: The Watcher
Word Count: 276
Notes: No spoilers, maybe just vague hints at them. I really need to stop writing in first person...it's just too addictive.
When the road is long and broken, and dark things gather around to peer at me with yellow eyes, I stop and wonder about her.
She was such a small little sea flower, always fluttering in the wind and bouncing right back up with the same vivaciousness she had before. Now, I can still see that flower inside her, but she has already grown up, and her smile seems to show that she knows something I don’t.
I wish she could tell me what it means.
And when that man with red hair, the same color as the burning sunset we always enjoyed together, beckoned a long thin hand to her, she pursed her lips in defiance, and ran towards me. Well, I wish she knew that she ran towards me; she only saw the dark coat I wore, as I patiently watched her from a distance. But she ran, and that’s all that matters.
I admire her courage.
I wish she could share it with me, so I won’t be ashamed to share this ugly face that I have taken on. I wish I could stop running and hold her hand, and comfort her when the times were tough, to feel her pure heart beating faintly with my overshadowed one. I wish I could apologize for that time when I was so utterly lost within myself that I allowed her to be hurt by the awful things I did.
But then she calls out and runs to him, the hero of light, and I realize that both of them share something which I’ll never understand.
I’m feeling as if I’m left behind in the shadows…
Title: The Watcher
Word Count: 276
Notes: No spoilers, maybe just vague hints at them. I really need to stop writing in first person...it's just too addictive.
When the road is long and broken, and dark things gather around to peer at me with yellow eyes, I stop and wonder about her.
She was such a small little sea flower, always fluttering in the wind and bouncing right back up with the same vivaciousness she had before. Now, I can still see that flower inside her, but she has already grown up, and her smile seems to show that she knows something I don’t.
I wish she could tell me what it means.
And when that man with red hair, the same color as the burning sunset we always enjoyed together, beckoned a long thin hand to her, she pursed her lips in defiance, and ran towards me. Well, I wish she knew that she ran towards me; she only saw the dark coat I wore, as I patiently watched her from a distance. But she ran, and that’s all that matters.
I admire her courage.
I wish she could share it with me, so I won’t be ashamed to share this ugly face that I have taken on. I wish I could stop running and hold her hand, and comfort her when the times were tough, to feel her pure heart beating faintly with my overshadowed one. I wish I could apologize for that time when I was so utterly lost within myself that I allowed her to be hurt by the awful things I did.
But then she calls out and runs to him, the hero of light, and I realize that both of them share something which I’ll never understand.
I’m feeling as if I’m left behind in the shadows…
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