Flowers for a Ghost.

It had been a mistake…

His mind backtracked, trying to rethink the words and make them into anything, anything but a "mistake," but there were no other words to be used. It was just that – a mistake.

A grave mistake…

No - his mind backpedaled from the word - not grave. A grave mistake would be what got him into the whole mess in the first place (Screaming.. so much screaming.. and blood.. the stench of iron drowning him…).

No, this mistake was only a mistake of the heart that weighed much too much on his mind.

He never should have taken the position.

It had been a stupid mistake.

Initially, he had jumped at the offer simply because of the benefits of food and a roof over his head in a world where he understood nothing, but he had been too hasty in accepting; he hadn't considered the other variables.

People. Relationships… Emotions.


He didn't know why he thought he could simply pass through life until he found a way back… He should have known by now that nothing ever went as planned.





He ultimately found that he envied the other children. Life for them was so.. simple.

All they ever talked about was the future - something that had long since been lost to Edward. There was nothing he wanted to do. Not anymore. Everything he had ever wanted to do, everything that he had hoped to do, was no longer within his reach.

Whatever they wanted to achieve, they could. They had an infinite amount of possibilities (and impossibilities) available to them. When they walked passed, not one, but thousands of doors would open at their will simply because they were.

Edward… well, he did not have such luxury. When he walked passed, the doors were already shut tight. Locked. Bolted.

And the one door that mattered, the one that would lead to an infinite amount of impossibilities, was… impossible to reach.

For awhile, he had tried his hardest to disprove this fact, spending long, futile hours in the library, but it was as the hat had said, "Knowledge is not the answer, but you already knew this, didn't you?"

Yes, he knew. He hated it, but he knew.

So he gave up and wallowed in self misery.

It had been one of those days that he felt particularly self-loathing that he met someone he wished he hadn't.

"Hello, Elric. My name is Tom Riddle."

He never should have reached for that outstretched hand.

That had been a mistake.

Just a little thought I had after hitting the wall repeatedly known as writer's block loooooool *shot*

Anyway, dunno what I'm doing, per usual. Please dun kill me.

Also, if anyone cares, and I doubt you do, I have a facebook (profile. php?id=100003397482751) and twitter (razrae) account, you know, in case you were wondering if I really did die.

cheeerrssssss (and please dun kill me)