| i'm here to sing this anthem of our dying day| :letssingitoncemore:
Title: Intervals
Fandom: Alexander, Original, Fight Club
Pairing: None
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Musings
Short Summary: A Short stop in the asylum
Intervals
(An Asylum File)
-----
He hasn't talked to him in weeks, not since he'd refused to answer the question straight. Really, he hasn't talked to anyone. But he was so willing and open to talk to the not-blind boy.
He bites his lips and wonders if the chance will ever come up again.
----
Raikor watches Kariko from across the food hall. He doesn't approach her (Ikea is watching, always watching), but he watches. He knows what she's thinking ('...the food isn't right, it's never right...') always does. She doesn't know what he's thinking and that's good. If she did, she'd hate him and that's the last thing on Earth he wants.
He dips his head down and eats his food quietly, and tries to forget her.
----
Counting the tiles on the wall is tedious, these days.
She wants to leave, and pretends to be ok. She's cheating her days out of here, pretending to take the medication and pretending it works, putting a cap on her feelings, stops fighting so much (at all, really), keeps her mouth shut and plays masquerade with everyone but herself.
She's cheating her days out of here and it sickens and elates her.
----
His fist soars through the air and connects with the Orderlie's nose. He watches him start to buckle, feet slip, knees propel downward, and then he punches him in the stomach ("GET UP AND FIGHT!") and laughs when the man comes to his senses and clips him one across the face.
He's laughing, this brings him so much fun, and then they speak in punches and slapping of flesh to flesh, blood flying, bones cracking, skin breaking...
And then he feels someone pull him back, he struggles, there are more, too many, he keeps fighting, but he fails this time. A needle slips under his skin and then there's nothing but black.
----
God is speaking to him again, face stoic across the table.
He merely looks at him, says nothing as always. He has no need, because God is God. No matter if he turns his back on you, no matter if he hates or love you, God will still always be God.
And God knows everything, as sure as he knows nothing.
And so, he stays mute.
He doesn't feel like being the teacher today.
These are small intervals in otherwise busy, distrurbing lives.
Fandom: Alexander, Original, Fight Club
Pairing: None
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Musings
Short Summary: A Short stop in the asylum
Intervals
(An Asylum File)
-----
He hasn't talked to him in weeks, not since he'd refused to answer the question straight. Really, he hasn't talked to anyone. But he was so willing and open to talk to the not-blind boy.
He bites his lips and wonders if the chance will ever come up again.
----
Raikor watches Kariko from across the food hall. He doesn't approach her (Ikea is watching, always watching), but he watches. He knows what she's thinking ('...the food isn't right, it's never right...') always does. She doesn't know what he's thinking and that's good. If she did, she'd hate him and that's the last thing on Earth he wants.
He dips his head down and eats his food quietly, and tries to forget her.
----
Counting the tiles on the wall is tedious, these days.
She wants to leave, and pretends to be ok. She's cheating her days out of here, pretending to take the medication and pretending it works, putting a cap on her feelings, stops fighting so much (at all, really), keeps her mouth shut and plays masquerade with everyone but herself.
She's cheating her days out of here and it sickens and elates her.
----
His fist soars through the air and connects with the Orderlie's nose. He watches him start to buckle, feet slip, knees propel downward, and then he punches him in the stomach ("GET UP AND FIGHT!") and laughs when the man comes to his senses and clips him one across the face.
He's laughing, this brings him so much fun, and then they speak in punches and slapping of flesh to flesh, blood flying, bones cracking, skin breaking...
And then he feels someone pull him back, he struggles, there are more, too many, he keeps fighting, but he fails this time. A needle slips under his skin and then there's nothing but black.
----
God is speaking to him again, face stoic across the table.
He merely looks at him, says nothing as always. He has no need, because God is God. No matter if he turns his back on you, no matter if he hates or love you, God will still always be God.
And God knows everything, as sure as he knows nothing.
And so, he stays mute.
He doesn't feel like being the teacher today.
These are small intervals in otherwise busy, distrurbing lives.