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Entry tags:
Sunday Night 4 Spring
Title: Sunday Night 4 Spring
Summary: Leaving Cross was an end for Akito, but that isn't necessarily a bad thing.
Rating: G
Warnings: Slightly disturbing
Update: 1/2
Original Post Date: 06/01/07
Sunday is red. The others don't know this, but it is. The others don't know much, they don't know her certainly. But then the only person that does know her is dead, dead and rotting like this house and these people and this world is. They are rotting, but that means the cats are too. The thought makes her happy, one of the few things that does these days.
Night is for reading. She doesn't bother to pretend anymore, her only real job is to have a child one day. Most likely she won't even do that, someone else will have a child and they'll tell her it's her's. They seem to think she's that far gone, the stupid bitches that take Ren's side. In theory the older crowd is on her side, but they just want another puppet to use. Once, Akito might have fought it. Now, what was the point.
4 is for morning, this the idiots *do* get in some way. But they have it wrong still, not that it surprises her. She always sits in the middle of the room, grapefruit red and bleeding while off to the side was a knife, liquid slowly soaking into the napkin under it. She got out the box then, along with an old, dog-eared book. She read out loud of queens and horrors, and a maiden with seven men around her. She was not surprised at what a mother could do to her own flesh.
Spring is for death. The seasons are something they got wrong too. Winter is for sleep, like summer is for fading and fall for white. She is white and sleeping, but she can tell wake is just waiting for the right morning. It doesn't make her excited, she's too deep in sleeping for feeling. But death is coming, morning is coming, and with that birth is coming like it always does. Change is coming, even if only she knows.
Summary: Leaving Cross was an end for Akito, but that isn't necessarily a bad thing.
Rating: G
Warnings: Slightly disturbing
Update: 1/2
Original Post Date: 06/01/07
Sunday is red. The others don't know this, but it is. The others don't know much, they don't know her certainly. But then the only person that does know her is dead, dead and rotting like this house and these people and this world is. They are rotting, but that means the cats are too. The thought makes her happy, one of the few things that does these days.
Night is for reading. She doesn't bother to pretend anymore, her only real job is to have a child one day. Most likely she won't even do that, someone else will have a child and they'll tell her it's her's. They seem to think she's that far gone, the stupid bitches that take Ren's side. In theory the older crowd is on her side, but they just want another puppet to use. Once, Akito might have fought it. Now, what was the point.
4 is for morning, this the idiots *do* get in some way. But they have it wrong still, not that it surprises her. She always sits in the middle of the room, grapefruit red and bleeding while off to the side was a knife, liquid slowly soaking into the napkin under it. She got out the box then, along with an old, dog-eared book. She read out loud of queens and horrors, and a maiden with seven men around her. She was not surprised at what a mother could do to her own flesh.
Spring is for death. The seasons are something they got wrong too. Winter is for sleep, like summer is for fading and fall for white. She is white and sleeping, but she can tell wake is just waiting for the right morning. It doesn't make her excited, she's too deep in sleeping for feeling. But death is coming, morning is coming, and with that birth is coming like it always does. Change is coming, even if only she knows.