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+Call it an Opuim+ Sasuke FanFic Part One |
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Oh wow- I’m finally attempting a Sasuke FanFic… God, I hope I can do this…
Call it an Opium
Call it an opium, or better yet his bane. But however one might look, as this tide of feelings, there was one true fact that rose above the rest- addiction. Pulled by a moon, a sphere carved from a face hat had been branded in his mind over and over again. A face that bore a name, and a name that led to the forevermore the same resolution of pure, pristine hate. Just as those tidal waves rose and feel in his mind, the simple spoken words, tongue figuring each syllable with painstaking perfection to reawake the horror. He had made barriers against the beat of the liquid abhor, but they lapped with persistent gentle nudges eroding away his will. A wall it was? With so many cracks that allowed those waters to seep in bit by bit, pooling within the crevices of his head. That name to be spoken awoke that moon, the lunar pull calling upon those waves to rise… speak that name… Itachi.
The road stretched out before him, glazed with moonlight, but barren to the bone. He listened to the silence that played over and over again, a broken record locked and caught. Just a tap is needed to make it spin once again? It only it was that simple… if only anything in life was that simple. But he tried any ways. Just like a child’s rebellious belief that a pot of precise gold waited at the tails of every rainbow, or that there truly was a monster hiding under their bed. He tried to break that catch in sound. A tap was all you needed? If only such a proposition would be granted, for life… would never be that, simple.
She confirmed it.
Her voice, that suddenly caught hold of him. Desperate and wrenched with sorrow. Her voice that dared to make his world so much more complicated… yet so much clearer. He stopped, shoes scraping against pavement. Sakura. Memories flickered through his mind, Sakura, that annoying girl who persisted for his love, Sakura, the weak yet sturdy, Sakura, a light left in a realm of utter pitch. But her name pulled no tide within him. He forced it out of his head. No time for friends… But she never knew when to stop, never. A record caught just needs a tap to start again? But here it was, playing on its own, and he wished it to end. From desire to displeasure. He wanted to see that disc shatter.
It wasn’t just a word that broke the stillness of the eve, but a plea. A plea to remain, to stay- to bind himself to only one thing –failure. Her plea was a request to turn his back on something in which he virtually lived on. The opium of nightmares that granted him a lullaby of screams. But then her mood evolved into something deeper. She wished to go forth into darkness with him. The words were spoken, and echoed about his mind. Unwillingly he found the ocean of turmoil hate rise, playing at the edges of the wall. But something else was present now, a sensation he wasn’t near accustomed to- guilt. Realization became a dawning aspect, he was betraying those that trusted him, and now, in his moment of turning away from the happiest life he might have ever known he was bringing one of those loyal souls down with him. No- he wouldn’t do it. He acted swiftly; it was time to be utterly sound. He cursed himself for relaying a wedge of hope within Sakura, to whisper the two simple words “Thank you” then take the consciousness form her. Maybe she did know… but made no rebel. Yet in his way of turning he regarded the fallen tears that marked the earth, liquid droplets of regret shattered upon the ground. In a bittersweet way he knew it- she had cried for him.
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See it as it Is //I special prolouge thing-a ma-jigger!//
He had never been the hero. So why did they continue to look up at him like that? He had made his choice in life. Couldn’t they see? He was no fallen angel, not some savoir beaten till their heart became forged from the lifeless metals of hate. The hate hadn’t been created in such a contemporary way, no, that had been seeded in his soul since the day his father refused to see him as a “true” son. It had been sewed from whence he could never overcome his brother, and it bloomed with the condemnation of his being to the Cursed Seal, Heaven’s seal delivered by the fangs of a God forsaken soul. The hate, it had always been there, growing and growing… Why couldn’t they see? He had never been the hero…
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Feeling: eek <<< OMFG.... CAFFINE HIGH!
 Leahtin · Sat Nov 11, 2006 @ 04:14am · 4 Comments |
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