A/N: Vignette that's been sitting on my hard drive for MONTHS. ALSO still need to know the level of interest in me doing a little fic-reading/question-answering vlog. Not a series, just like one video. Reading from audience favs, answering questions. That sort of thing. Let me know in a review or PM if you'd be interested in seeing it.

vignette. Namine, Xion, Kairi.

her heart beats with the ticking clock

There's a girl waiting in the window.

She's a ghost, really. Just a blush of off-white among the ivory curtains. If you look carefully you can see her; and then just look around, because there she is, hidden in the cracks between the walls where logic doesn't quite explain why you never noticed that building before.

She's the sound of silence and the white noise whispers, the things so present they're not. Now she's there, and now you know, and really, what difference does it make? The life and lies of the barely-there girl are hardly anyone's concern.

(But they're everyone's concern, because that barely-there girl could tear the world asunder if ever she dared to admit how broken her non-existent heart really is.)

But she's always there; dutifully watching over something or someone or maybe just the whole town.

There's a girl waiting in the window.

Just waiting and fading away.

-x-

There's a girl watching from the clocktower.

Watching and waiting for something or someone or maybe no one at all. Some days it seems she just stands there and dreams and waits to meet herself up there. Just look—can't you see her? No? Then turn your head and—yes, there she is. In the corner of your eye, in the dust in the sunbeams, in the glistens of cobwebs; that's her. Look and you'll miss her, but turn your head and there she is.

But maybe it isn't a girl at all, you think. Maybe just a bird or a phantom or a shadow cast on the clock face.

There's a girl watching from the clocktower.

Except that she never was there.

-x-

There's a girl waiting on the shoreline.

Eyes open wide and trained on nothing as loyally she stands and she waits. The always-there girl who loses her mind and waits on a dream to wash up on the tide.

She's eroding away like the sand on the beach where she stands and watches the water for she doesn't-know-what or doesn't-know-who.

There are people who never existed, and the girl will remember them all. She'll always be waiting, whenever she's her. Even if she's not herself, as long as it's her she'll wait because that's what she does.

There's a girl waiting on the shoreline.

Just waiting and wasting away.

-x-

A/N: So this ended up being sort of prosetry. Not really poetry, but too poetic to just be prose. I'd like to know what you all think. It sat dormant for so long because I couldn't decide if I liked it or not.