I may write a sequel, if proper inspiration and reviews indicate it. Enjoy!
My last thought, by Evangeline Archer
I don't know why I am writing to you, since I' ll probably never find the courage to actually let you know. It's just that the night has ruthlessly wrapped its lonesomeness around my neck, choking me. It is, and never forget that, nice to imagine that I'm talking to you through these lines, relieving to look at the words as they flow, searching, somewhere in them, the familiar shape of your face. I let myself get lost in your figure, being the only bright spot among the darkness of my vain existence, as I bashfully touch something from the velvet magic of love; I love you.
The deafening crashing noise is produced from my empty glass, as it irreversibly collides into the wall, scattering its remnants over the floor. The unbearable nocturnal silence is stirred, echoing morbidly in the vastness of my nightmarish, melancholic world. I curse whoever is watching me from up there, deep in the boundless glass dome in which we are kept by Him, his valuable prizes, alive, unaware, and weak. Why me? Why should I be the Ultimate Life Form? Hot, salty liquid in my eyes turns my surroundings into an uncertain, colorful, blurry mass. Created by mankind, despised by mankind. It's the same people who saw their hopes being reflected in the red depths of my eyes that now claim to hate me. For I am created to destroy. Because I am never anything beyond the anti-hero, the solitary, fearful monster, the guy that once was to destroy the world and its ever famous protector. Because I am a bloody android, metal, human work, a project, and projects do not feel, nor hope. They never dream, only remain silent onlookers to the lives of others, struggling to touch the stunning, unknown emotion, secularly named as "happiness''; their never aging nature cannot, but stare at such goods behind a tormenting, prohibitive wall. The thought makes my chest ache as if it were salt applied on an open wound. I will never have you. His, always his, real as he is. I am not. And thus you'll never be mine. But I love you.
I am virtually out of things to say. Two words, were it ever possible, can tell it all. You know, I will never blame you for the pain which penetrates me as memories of you come to my mind. How could I ever hate you for not listening to the whispers of my soul, as I did with the wonderful yours. Your childish simplicity, innocence and strong will, will always bring a smile to my lips, no matter where I am. Because you 're just something surpassing; a red, passionate Rose, gently stretching its petals up to the light of the daytime sky; the sky of a world which balances perilously within the solitary, endless reality of existence. And maybe nobody has noticed yet, but I do see the sun rise in the emerald ocean of your orbs. I want you, every meaning of the word being inaccurate for me: your petite body, your perfume, the loud way you have to laugh. I visualise of wrapping my arms around your waist, long quills tickling my neck gently as they slightly touch it. Warmth against me. I imagine, in moments of stark madness, brushing my lips against those pure, pink petals, intoxicated by their devastating, both sweet and bitter poison. Entrails suffer in the realization of never telling you. Hazardous would it be if this happened; because I love you.
Do not ever, ever infer that this was your fault. Never blame yourself about it. No. Just say that I wanted to break free from a reality that had turned into a living hell. Doing away with the eternity burdening me, and the other way round. My creator dexterously provided me with an acute perception, and thus awareness of the fact that, should I stay, my nature will urge me to destroy. Teardrops my harsh nature has struggled to suppress moisten the paper, the letters going obscure again as the words flow. I don't want to destroy! Only to live, to have what everyone has in their life. Mere things. Everyday things. Still priceless to someone like me.
And even if I kept my promise to you, no one will ever find out. It doesn't matter, though. For I love you.
The infamous, tough, powerful guy in the mirror would reluctantly admit it, but the need for this has simply gone poignant; I am afraid! I...I never was prepared for....this. It's just that something deep beneath my ribcage feels shattered. It hurts more and more with every new rejection tasted. Go tell all of them, for all I care. Faker was the best rival I'd ever had. All of you were. Huh! In a way, it can be considered as ironic: you were stronger than me, having the love not once had I had. Shadow the hedgehog wasn't dark, nor was he indulging in his solitude. Hatred once used to fill me, but not any more. Wanting to cry it out, the knowledge that nobody would listen to me went daunting. Yes, I have made mistakes, but try to understand me! They killed her!! She was a kid, a damn wonderful girl, a girl like you...
Even these days the memory of theirs...pulling the trigger...haunts my dreams. Blood still runs slowly its way down the gap this day has left on me. I have come up against enough to regain myself, mentally and physically. I danced in fire, trapped in this machine, not knowing how lond I'd waited. Therefore, it all was for your sake. Because I love you.
Ink running short and the light emmited from the tiny lamp resting on the desk getting dim, one cannot add more. Darkness is calling me to get lost inside it. My only wish is for you to smile. Always. Do it for me. Beautiful you are, the whole Universe smiles at you back. Me too.
A deep breath having been taken, a reluctant look penetrates the window. The gigantic burning disc is climbing its bashful way up the sky, painting the horizon a light shade of violet. How will I miss the warm sunlight caressing my face, or even the kids playing noisily on the streets. The waves, as they wrestle their evelrasting fight with the shore, dying the moment they bump into them, is if they were devoted lovers, sacrificing themselves for their soulmates.
But, on the other side, there's my family, waiting for me.
The surface is sharp, unbearable as it tears my flesh to find shelter inside it. Pain penetrates me, making me scream, my fingers tightly wrapped around the dagger. Red, shiny drops stain the paper, this metalic smell suffocating me.
Blood; my blood.
My heart struggles to beat, crimson liquid dampening my fur as it gets out with successive throbs. I feel it decreasing its pace to a halt, slowly, gently. Pain, fear, rejection, distress...they are all gone...A gap inside me, a relieving, almost pleasant gap. The thought of my pure, blonde angel, which I am going to meet soon...
I am...happy. Don't you feel sad...Rose...I will be fine...
Hands tremble while trying to form these last lines. A morbid red lake having been created around me, it is getting hard to continue. There's no time; I can already feel the end approaching. And you know what? I want it to come.
Mind runs out of feelings, emotions, preoccupations, leaving my soul calm, peaceful.
The last tought coming to it, never forget that, is the same as always.
...I love you...
Ah, well...*grabs tissue* this was the worse sap I've ever written....but anyways, everyone needs to stop being sober^^
This was nothing more than a nice, pleasant break from my in-progress, multi-chapter stories. I will move on with them, sure, but none of those projects include romance, and the sappy fangirl inside me protests...
It was an originally greek story "Γιατί σ' αγαπάω", so It may not be so good, on account of it being a translation of a damn difficult, plus influenced from a different culture, text.