Alison Blaire (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
shimmerandsing) wrote2007-04-11 12:20 am
shimmerandsing) wrote2007-04-11 12:20 am
[Nexus 100] 030. Death
((Ran out of steam again. Just one today.))
030. Death
Word count: 314
I don't want to be here. I can hear Chase behind me as I walk. Following at a respectful distance. Who'd have ever thought of Chase as the respectful type? Then again, he did give up smoking on my behalf.
My mind's wandering, though.
Every step I take results in a puff of desert sand and dust. Dust. There aren't a lot of people I hate. Not with a genuine, true, pure feeling of loathing. Dust has earned himself a spot on a very short list. Or, had earned, I should say. His being dead doesn't change anything. I hate him as much now as I did then. Maybe more. Because, his dying had not only taken him out of my reach for revenge, but it had also taken my father with him. Just when we had started to understand one another again.
This is the spot. I was afraid I would need Chase to find it. But, I'm drawn to it like a magnetic pull. There isn't anything left of my father's body. Dust and the desert itself has seen to that. I can't help the slump of my shoulders as I stare down at the place where I last saw my father lay and wonder what I could have done differently to save his life.
First on the list would have been just leading a quite life as a lawyer like he'd expected. I always have to go my own way. Maybe, this time, my way was wrong. And, now he's dead and I won't ever get a chance to tell him how sorry I am for it all. We had our differences and caused each other so much pain. But, he was my father and he tried hard. I loved him despite his faults.
He's dead. I still can't believe it. The world thinks I'm dead, too. I guess that's fitting.
030. Death
Word count: 314
I don't want to be here. I can hear Chase behind me as I walk. Following at a respectful distance. Who'd have ever thought of Chase as the respectful type? Then again, he did give up smoking on my behalf.
My mind's wandering, though.
Every step I take results in a puff of desert sand and dust. Dust. There aren't a lot of people I hate. Not with a genuine, true, pure feeling of loathing. Dust has earned himself a spot on a very short list. Or, had earned, I should say. His being dead doesn't change anything. I hate him as much now as I did then. Maybe more. Because, his dying had not only taken him out of my reach for revenge, but it had also taken my father with him. Just when we had started to understand one another again.
This is the spot. I was afraid I would need Chase to find it. But, I'm drawn to it like a magnetic pull. There isn't anything left of my father's body. Dust and the desert itself has seen to that. I can't help the slump of my shoulders as I stare down at the place where I last saw my father lay and wonder what I could have done differently to save his life.
First on the list would have been just leading a quite life as a lawyer like he'd expected. I always have to go my own way. Maybe, this time, my way was wrong. And, now he's dead and I won't ever get a chance to tell him how sorry I am for it all. We had our differences and caused each other so much pain. But, he was my father and he tried hard. I loved him despite his faults.
He's dead. I still can't believe it. The world thinks I'm dead, too. I guess that's fitting.