August Drabble Contest
Here's the drabble I wrote for theair_thesun 's August Contest
Title: This Body Has Seen Battlefronts and Bombing Raids
Rating: T
This wasn't asked for.
The original intention for the day was to scream that to the heavens until her lungs gave out, but the problem with knowing so many supernatural teenagers is that they all have supernatural hearing.
Instead she locked herself in the bathroom and mentally listed all the reasons why supernatural hearing was stupid. She came up with 43, the most prominent of which being that your friends can no long have total gibbering breakdowns without you knowing.
Vengeful lists aside, it was the truth of the matter. She didn't ask for any of this and now she couldn't deal with the consequences without sending a half dozen people into a dead sprint for her house to make sure she hadn't tripped over a shoelace and decapitated herself.
Sitting on the edge of the tub, she looked into the mirror and wondered what exact part of the reflection had caused the current situation. She had studied herself in the mirror so often lately, and yet she couldn't place exactly what it was. But she knew it was to blame, since the pain was so keenly physical. It was her body that had some feature ripe for the taking, because it was her body that felt the attack, twice over.
Sadness didn't originate from some part of her mind, it came from the back of her neck. Nerve synapses spiralling through her chest and detonating in her stomach, leaving her gasping for air. Longing came from her throat, exploding out her mouth, giving away her position for further attack. Depression came from her spine and shot up it, a bullet train that left her unable to stand for days.
And love. Love came from all the bits that were left after the emotional barrage was done, but it was so meagre in comparison. It was never enough to fill all the holes left by two separate armies that didn't leave enough supplies to rebuild in their wake.
They were pulling her apart. drawing and quartering her for crimes she supposed she committed, but the punishments seemed far too severe.
If she could have split her soul into two pieces, she would have done it by now, as the constant battering of hot and cold was leaving her weak.
Both sides, fire and ice, had marched into battle. And not only did she allow it, she welcomed it, refusing to give up one even when she told herself she had to have the other. She indulged in their war speeches, let them wave their banners and now she was dealing with the aftermath. She had never realised that the trenches would be dug into her very bones.
It was all good and well that Jacob wouldn't give up, but Edward left it up to her to surrender, and she didn't even have enough supplies to cobble together a white flag.
And now the bombs were crashing down around her and she didn't think there would be enough left of her to carve a piece of victory out when all was said and done.
Looking at her watch, fifteen minutes had passed, and that was about as long of a ceasefire she should negotiate without someone raising the alarm. Turning the handle, she mentally prepared herself to pretend she had some idea about what she was going to do and who she wanted.
But the truth was it was a war out there, and she was sadly under-prepared for the occasion.
Title: This Body Has Seen Battlefronts and Bombing Raids
Rating: T
This wasn't asked for.
The original intention for the day was to scream that to the heavens until her lungs gave out, but the problem with knowing so many supernatural teenagers is that they all have supernatural hearing.
Instead she locked herself in the bathroom and mentally listed all the reasons why supernatural hearing was stupid. She came up with 43, the most prominent of which being that your friends can no long have total gibbering breakdowns without you knowing.
Vengeful lists aside, it was the truth of the matter. She didn't ask for any of this and now she couldn't deal with the consequences without sending a half dozen people into a dead sprint for her house to make sure she hadn't tripped over a shoelace and decapitated herself.
Sitting on the edge of the tub, she looked into the mirror and wondered what exact part of the reflection had caused the current situation. She had studied herself in the mirror so often lately, and yet she couldn't place exactly what it was. But she knew it was to blame, since the pain was so keenly physical. It was her body that had some feature ripe for the taking, because it was her body that felt the attack, twice over.
Sadness didn't originate from some part of her mind, it came from the back of her neck. Nerve synapses spiralling through her chest and detonating in her stomach, leaving her gasping for air. Longing came from her throat, exploding out her mouth, giving away her position for further attack. Depression came from her spine and shot up it, a bullet train that left her unable to stand for days.
And love. Love came from all the bits that were left after the emotional barrage was done, but it was so meagre in comparison. It was never enough to fill all the holes left by two separate armies that didn't leave enough supplies to rebuild in their wake.
They were pulling her apart. drawing and quartering her for crimes she supposed she committed, but the punishments seemed far too severe.
If she could have split her soul into two pieces, she would have done it by now, as the constant battering of hot and cold was leaving her weak.
Both sides, fire and ice, had marched into battle. And not only did she allow it, she welcomed it, refusing to give up one even when she told herself she had to have the other. She indulged in their war speeches, let them wave their banners and now she was dealing with the aftermath. She had never realised that the trenches would be dug into her very bones.
It was all good and well that Jacob wouldn't give up, but Edward left it up to her to surrender, and she didn't even have enough supplies to cobble together a white flag.
And now the bombs were crashing down around her and she didn't think there would be enough left of her to carve a piece of victory out when all was said and done.
Looking at her watch, fifteen minutes had passed, and that was about as long of a ceasefire she should negotiate without someone raising the alarm. Turning the handle, she mentally prepared herself to pretend she had some idea about what she was going to do and who she wanted.
But the truth was it was a war out there, and she was sadly under-prepared for the occasion.