Because she's such a silly muse, I keep getting these. So if it doesn't
make sense it never will. *g* Rambling turned short fic, go figure.
Looking through the unmentionable time that fate had dealt, she knew there
was someone lurking in the shadows, but just beyond her eyesight. Why did
they hide? Did they think she was so oblivious to what beckoned around
her that they just simply did not register? As if by some miracle of
fate, she *knew* when they were watching and when they weren't.
Even in her youth they were there; watching over her and guiding her
decisions. Though she hid their secret well, she was unsure of her
sanity. Who in their right mind would talk to them? Who would talk to
the walking spirits that surrounded the living?
So she told nobody. Well, not so much as through the written word. Story
after story told of the ones that reached beyond the realm of the living
to speak freely with someone. Someone's mind that could hear their silent
plea for companionship.
Day after long day, she walked among them. Walked among their stories.
Stories of old, and those that had yet to be. Still she was reluctant to
acknowledge them at times; wanting her freedom and independence, yet she
knew there was no way to leave them behind. They were as much a part of
her, as she was of them.
A gentle touch that most people would shrug off ; a sudden chill; a sudden
emotion that took hold with such force that it could not be denied. So
many different things she was use to but never gave much thought to how
odd others would see it.
"Are you there?" she'd ask softly, knowing already that they were.
No words came, merely feelings and emotions that poured forth into her
mind. Telepathy? No, it was the simplistic ways of sentient beliefs, one
she grew with over the years. Knowing the question before even asked;
knowing the outcome before hand; having the feeling of dread consume so
much that the only plausible outcome was death. She had felt that same
dread when her grandfather passed away, the same dread as always that
began with a half notion that something wasn't quite right.
Never wanting for anything, she continued through the life she thought
dull and boring. Considering what could be, she was thankful to be
different, different it good. Through her difference, she knows where she
stands in her lifetime. There should never be any regret.
The once girl now a grown up woman knows that life is merely a phase.
Though it is an never ending cycle to battle the wits of death and
disobedience, the simple fact remains. Though knowing death is around
every corner, one can't be afraid of what they don't see nor understand.
It is these little things in life that will add up to be the biggest
Complicated? Yes. Unfair? At times. But isn't everything?
No, life isn't fair. Sometimes all you have is yourself. Does it really matter?
Life is living.
Horrid I know. What can I say?