**yawn**
I’m dreaming.
I have to be dreaming, right? Because I’m dreaming that I’m dead.
Hey-you know how they (whoever ‘they’ are) say that when you die your life flickers before your eyes like some sort of instant-replay? That’s how it’s supposed to go, isn’t it? You’re supposed to get the good bits and the bad bits, all the stuff that made you into the person you are, all tidied up into a dramatic little documentary DVD for your viewing pleasure.
Guess what? ‘They’ lie.
Dying… dream-dying, not real dying, right-- dying hurt way too much for me to pay attention to anything else besides wanting to scream. I couldn’t-couldn’t move, couldn’t talk, couldn’t ask for help, couldn’t beg for mercy… not that my killers would’ve listened, but if I could have I think I would have. Pride died quicker than the rest of me; if I could have, I would have sobbed and pleaded. Instead, I-
There’s nothing left of me but this. No body, no remains. Nothing, nothing, nothing-just a little scummy crap on the grass, not even bones. But it’s all just a bad dream, right? It has to be a bad dream, because it can’t really be happening to me. Not really, not really… can it?
This can’t be happening.
This can’t be happening to me No No No no nononono-
Wait. Wait. Deep breath-hahah, okay, no deep breath, but… Right. Calm down. Where’s that mind you’re so proud of, Kudo? If that’s all that’s left, then use it, why don’t you? Think.
Think… about…
…about what happened and why it happened. And how you ended up like this, dea- Oh God, I think I’m going to be sick. I can’t even think of the word, but I’m… I’m….
Go ahead, say it-think it, whatever. Dead. I’m dead.
Dead.
Like that guy on the rollercoaster, only they caught his murderer and took her away-I helped with that. I was so proud of myself afterwards, too, even though I felt kind of sorry for the stupid girl who killed him. Ran cried, she-
Oh my God. Ran. What if she comes looking for me? What if she-wait, stop, stop panicking, it won’t fucking HELP, Kudo! Resources; that’s the first thing you’re supposed to do in a bad situation, consider your resources. What do you have left?
………………….My mind. My memory. My deductive skills. And-
“Shinichi-niisan? What’ll we do now? I’m scared!”
…..and a seven-year-old kid. He knows I’m here, and… he can hear me. (And Oh God, if he’s real and he can hear me, then it’s---
--not a dream. Not a dream. There goes that hope, as dead as… as I am…)
“Shh, Conan; let’s stay quiet and keep hiding in the bushes until they go away, okay?”
“O-okay.”
Memory, right. Start at the beginning and work from there, and maybe this’ll make more sense afterwards…
(…but they did lie about the instant-replay thing. It never happened. Never.)
2. Edogawa Conan
He’s thinking about how he got hurt, Shinichi-niisan is; I can hear him. It’s like somebody’s got the TV on but turned down real low, just loud enough to hear. But… the TV’s inside my HEAD. ‘Cause I can hear him. I’m hiding in the bushes like he said, and the bad guys are looking for me; but hearing him is like having somebody with me even if I’m all alone, so I’m glad he’s here.
And he didn’t get hurt, I keep forgetting; he got dead. Killed.
He’s nice, though, even if he is a ghost. I know all about ghosts, I’ve seen them in anime. Like in that one about the ghost hunters in the school, I can’t remember what it’s called-- and sometimes the ghosts are mean and sometimes they’re the good guys, so-- Shinichi-niisan’s not a bad guy; he didn’t yell at me even when I said I was scared.
I think he’s scared too.
Grownups do that, you know… pretend to be all brave and stuff while they’re just as scared as kids. My Jiisama, he-
I don’t want to think about that. But I can’t help it, I can’t, it’s in my head too… and maybe… if the bad guys find us, maybe I’ll get killed too. I hope it won’t hurt. Jiisama, he- They shot him and he didn’t look like it hurt, he just fell over all surprised, but right on his face between his eyes there was a… I thought bullets’d make a bigger hole. They do in the movies.
‘The bigger hole’s the exit-wound… glad you didn’t see that…’
Exit-wound? What’s that, Shinichi-niisan?
‘It’s… never mind.’
But I can see it in my head, like a floating kind of picture… it tickles. It’s where the bullet comes out-- Ooohh. That’s really-- EEEEW. Yuck. I’m glad I didn’t see it on Jiisama either. I didn’t like Jiisama a lot, but he took care of me. ‘Kaasan and Tousan died when I was really little, I can barely remember them (are they ghosts now too, or in Heaven?) and Jiisama was Tousan’s papa, so- I’ve tried to do stuff he’d like, tried to be smart in school (they did all those tests), tried to be quiet so I wouldn’t bother him when he met people at home and argued with them about money and stuff. He wasn’t really very nice, but he did take care of me.
‘Tests… advanced placement tests? Okay, got it. You’re pretty bright, aren’t you, kid? Did they ever tell you how you scored? No, guess they wouldn’t, would they?’
....and that's it for now. **sigh** Should I continue this, y'all? Or chuck it?
I have to be dreaming, right? Because I’m dreaming that I’m dead.
Hey-you know how they (whoever ‘they’ are) say that when you die your life flickers before your eyes like some sort of instant-replay? That’s how it’s supposed to go, isn’t it? You’re supposed to get the good bits and the bad bits, all the stuff that made you into the person you are, all tidied up into a dramatic little documentary DVD for your viewing pleasure.
Guess what? ‘They’ lie.
Dying… dream-dying, not real dying, right-- dying hurt way too much for me to pay attention to anything else besides wanting to scream. I couldn’t-couldn’t move, couldn’t talk, couldn’t ask for help, couldn’t beg for mercy… not that my killers would’ve listened, but if I could have I think I would have. Pride died quicker than the rest of me; if I could have, I would have sobbed and pleaded. Instead, I-
There’s nothing left of me but this. No body, no remains. Nothing, nothing, nothing-just a little scummy crap on the grass, not even bones. But it’s all just a bad dream, right? It has to be a bad dream, because it can’t really be happening to me. Not really, not really… can it?
This can’t be happening.
This can’t be happening to me No No No no nononono-
Wait. Wait. Deep breath-hahah, okay, no deep breath, but… Right. Calm down. Where’s that mind you’re so proud of, Kudo? If that’s all that’s left, then use it, why don’t you? Think.
Think… about…
…about what happened and why it happened. And how you ended up like this, dea- Oh God, I think I’m going to be sick. I can’t even think of the word, but I’m… I’m….
Go ahead, say it-think it, whatever. Dead. I’m dead.
Dead.
Like that guy on the rollercoaster, only they caught his murderer and took her away-I helped with that. I was so proud of myself afterwards, too, even though I felt kind of sorry for the stupid girl who killed him. Ran cried, she-
Oh my God. Ran. What if she comes looking for me? What if she-wait, stop, stop panicking, it won’t fucking HELP, Kudo! Resources; that’s the first thing you’re supposed to do in a bad situation, consider your resources. What do you have left?
………………….My mind. My memory. My deductive skills. And-
“Shinichi-niisan? What’ll we do now? I’m scared!”
…..and a seven-year-old kid. He knows I’m here, and… he can hear me. (And Oh God, if he’s real and he can hear me, then it’s---
--not a dream. Not a dream. There goes that hope, as dead as… as I am…)
“Shh, Conan; let’s stay quiet and keep hiding in the bushes until they go away, okay?”
“O-okay.”
Memory, right. Start at the beginning and work from there, and maybe this’ll make more sense afterwards…
(…but they did lie about the instant-replay thing. It never happened. Never.)
2. Edogawa Conan
He’s thinking about how he got hurt, Shinichi-niisan is; I can hear him. It’s like somebody’s got the TV on but turned down real low, just loud enough to hear. But… the TV’s inside my HEAD. ‘Cause I can hear him. I’m hiding in the bushes like he said, and the bad guys are looking for me; but hearing him is like having somebody with me even if I’m all alone, so I’m glad he’s here.
And he didn’t get hurt, I keep forgetting; he got dead. Killed.
He’s nice, though, even if he is a ghost. I know all about ghosts, I’ve seen them in anime. Like in that one about the ghost hunters in the school, I can’t remember what it’s called-- and sometimes the ghosts are mean and sometimes they’re the good guys, so-- Shinichi-niisan’s not a bad guy; he didn’t yell at me even when I said I was scared.
I think he’s scared too.
Grownups do that, you know… pretend to be all brave and stuff while they’re just as scared as kids. My Jiisama, he-
I don’t want to think about that. But I can’t help it, I can’t, it’s in my head too… and maybe… if the bad guys find us, maybe I’ll get killed too. I hope it won’t hurt. Jiisama, he- They shot him and he didn’t look like it hurt, he just fell over all surprised, but right on his face between his eyes there was a… I thought bullets’d make a bigger hole. They do in the movies.
‘The bigger hole’s the exit-wound… glad you didn’t see that…’
Exit-wound? What’s that, Shinichi-niisan?
‘It’s… never mind.’
But I can see it in my head, like a floating kind of picture… it tickles. It’s where the bullet comes out-- Ooohh. That’s really-- EEEEW. Yuck. I’m glad I didn’t see it on Jiisama either. I didn’t like Jiisama a lot, but he took care of me. ‘Kaasan and Tousan died when I was really little, I can barely remember them (are they ghosts now too, or in Heaven?) and Jiisama was Tousan’s papa, so- I’ve tried to do stuff he’d like, tried to be smart in school (they did all those tests), tried to be quiet so I wouldn’t bother him when he met people at home and argued with them about money and stuff. He wasn’t really very nice, but he did take care of me.
‘Tests… advanced placement tests? Okay, got it. You’re pretty bright, aren’t you, kid? Did they ever tell you how you scored? No, guess they wouldn’t, would they?’
....and that's it for now. **sigh** Should I continue this, y'all? Or chuck it?