#i got a little dramatic w/ the whole power reservation thing. but 3 months worth is too much. have u seen shou??? HE'S SO SMALL...

[espectres]

THE CLOUDS FALL DOWN and they are of crushing rubble and hazardous rods of metal. Puddles of blood dry quickly, and there is no shine that rattles through them as you step there, worn-out snickers pressing on the cement painted with liveless rust. It makes you think of the dead, the lives which has been turned upside down, tossed around before giving in under the weight of heartless cruelty, just like their bodies under the weight of their homes. You stand there in the middle, stranded and small and lost between the jagged ends of torn buildings and your own weariness, mesmerized with how you could look on the dead, the cold limbs and rotting flesh and eyes that speak of unfathomable last terrors- and still, you feel absolutely nothing. 

Because it isn't death that twists your gut brutally, and it isn't the unsightly things that unsettle you- never quite has ... & never will. It isn't death that brings you here, carrying your heavy limbs and restless mind and bright eyes along. They never really lose their shine, your eyes, even rimmed from tearing and hooded by sleepless nights, it's not really their choice, no matter how you look at it, it's never really your choice, either. They stare at everything and nothing, your eyes, at the chaos where you once stood, unstoppable and determined; at the city lights in the distance, how can they go on like nothing has happened ? at the hand that burns by your side, it hasn't recovered from your own recklessness.

What were thinking, anyway ? Housing all that energy within your core ? Was it empowering; to know that you've kept going for months ? Was it relieving; to feel how it fizzled and bubbled and thrived in your veins, alive and overwhelming and threatening to simply burst and kill you ? 

" Shou-chan, " A familiar voice asks, you've been aware of her for a while now, refusing to acknowledge the company as your whole being hides out of sight, stubborn and upset and uselessly invisible. You listen, though, you always do so, carefully. " Do you blame yourself ? " 

You raise your head, your powers falter away and so does your orientation, apparently, because you stare again, but it's as thought you've suddenly forgot all cognitive skills, looking so lost. Maybe you are lost, maybe it's answers that you've come here to find, to find out where did you go wrong, to stop your mind from thinking of what has been and what's to come and what could've been, to help you ease the frightened beating of your heart that refuses to cease, you're so ... you're so afraid ! What are you afraid of ? Isn't it over already ? What worse could possibly happen to you ? You don't know, you don't know, you don't know anything anymore. 

Intead there is the weight of life sitting ever so gracelessly on your shoulders, and the phantom press of hands against your throat, pressing onto your feeble pulse, and you can't talk, you can't move, you can't breath and you're terrified like you've never been your whole life. You couldn't do a single thing, you couldn't change a single thing, you could have done better, if only you'd have been stronger, if only you'd have known better- 

" You never had a chance. " She smiles, she might as well kick you in the stomach. But her eyes are kind in a way, just like your mother when she calls to check on you, just like your healer when he takes care of your reopened scars. None of that mattered, none of that could help you, none of that could save you. None of that could stop you from trying, even if you never had a chance - were you so wrong ? Was it all so pointless ? 

" It was completely out of your control. " She walks away, then. Leaving you behind to your staring and your confusion, the fresh wounds in your hands and the unshed tears, the palpable race of your heart and the unamed, chronic ache in your chest.