A/N: Seriously, I came am typing this up because I really do not have any motivation to work on my other fics, and I have thirteen stories up, which bugs me. I do not own The Legend of Zelda. Enjoy.

~Moon White Rose


The tale of my brother, and his heroic feats, will forever echo throughout time; this is but one thing of which I am sure. His unmatched courage, his unfailing bravery… they will never be forgotten; I don't doubt Hylia herself will see to the remembrance of his deeds. My brother, my lazy, quiet, brother is a hero of both the land and sky.

I should be proud of him, and in some small part of my heart I am, but I guess lying in a forgotten heap on death's door is more important to me right now then what he has done. Really, I shouldn't complain, it's my fault I'm here after all, but I still can't help but feel envious. All those years while I sweated, labored, cried, and suffered silently while he slacked off every chance he got echoes through my mind, and it just isn't fair. My brother is not a bad person you understand, but neither am I.

Or rather, I was not a bad person. One time, I was good… at least I matched the textbook definition of the word, but when I met him…. When I met my death, disguised as my saving grace, I changed. I changed into a darker form of who I really was; I became an instrument for evil, and the part that gets to me the most, even now when I know I'm about to die, is that….

I liked it; I still do, in some sick way. I loved the attention he gave me, even though I know now that it was staged, fake; used solely to keep my bound to him, because he knew my brother, who drove him insane, could never kill me, his precious twin sister.

Ghirahim had been smart like that, but not smart enough, and Link had won the final battle between them, even though that battle is the reason I'm here now, slowly losing consciousness, dying with all the agony I deserve, but don't at the same time. After all, I had never asked to be treated the way I had been growing up, I had never asked for the things on my face and body that were the cause of so much of my hurt.

I had never asked to be alive, but I still got up each day, breath in my lungs. Speaking of breath, a sudden gasp pushes past my lips as I cough up more blood, spots dancing before my vision. It seems I'll finally get my wish for my misery to end; I can tell this is it…. It will be over soon.

Strangely enough, I seem to recall the one other time in my life when I had almost died, and my savior then, a true hero, well, I can almost hear his voice now. "'Don't worry Laela, you're safe. You're safe now.'" The words sound so real; I swear I really hear him, but I know that cannot be. I'm in the past, on The Surface, and his greatest of great grandparents are probably just kids up in a much younger Skyloft with him safe on our sky island in our time. Just as I finally see, and feel, darkness crash over my for the last time, I swear I feel myself being picked up and carried, but I know that cannot be.

No one cares about me, the Monster of Skyloft, and the greatest traitor to ever be alive. I've done my part in Hylia's grand scheme, and now all that's left…

Is nothing.

A/N: I know this is short and possibly weird, but I intend for it to be that way. Let me know what you think. Later.

~Moon White Rose