Across The Universe :: (Calliope // 68th Finale Oneshot)
Jan 4, 2015 14:10:26 GMT -5
Post by L△LIA on Jan 4, 2015 14:10:26 GMT -5
It's the dead of night when I step foot back into the waiting room of Poe's hospital ward. The nursing station is vacant and the lights have been dimmed to a low, flickering hum. The life support systems and the television, it seems, are the only things here that are are never turned off. That hell-box lights up the far side of the room, whispers of the Finale growing ghost-legs and pacing back and forth between the empty chairs stretched out before me. They're nervous over so much blood and can't help wondering if this hospital can really help at all, if there's anything that can be done for wounds like these. Maybe they're too far gone. Maybe it's hopeless.
I knew, even as I grabbed Wolfgang's sleeve earlier, that distractions can only last so long. It wasn't easier, it was just away and if I could stay gone forever, I would, but I can't. I went home to toss and turn in my bed, to put off the morning and mourning, but I knew. The city was no escape, even if I kept my eyes off every television we passed there were still the faces of the people we passed. Nothing about their eyes said our girl lives! I've known this whole time. Galaxy is dead.
It's just been such a long time since I hoped for anything and I wasn't ready to give that feeling up yet.
There is a teddy bear abandoned on one of the seats directly in front of the television. I name her Galaxy and sit down beside her, the same way I used to watch television as a child. On screen the real Galaxy is covered in blood and struggling for breath. It's horrifying to watch. I've known her for years, both more and less as time complicated itself for us, but I've never seen this expression on her face before. She doesn't look like the girl who tried to befriend me despite everything. She looks like me.
Except there's so much blood and all the parts of their bodies aren't where they're supposed to be and this isn't what people look like. Those are already corpses on screen. I pull Galaxy-bear onto my lap and wrap my arms around her, hunkering down until my chin is resting on the top of her head. There are a couple dozen teddy bears at home on the bed I left in order to come here tonight, but none of them were this comforting. My whole life I whispered secrets in their fuzzy little ears and kept them close as I slept, but they never replied, no matter how much I pretended. They never hugged me back. They never made the bad things okay.
I watch. I watch everything I was supposed to see earlier tonight, quietly crying into the head of a stuffed bear like a lost little girl. Limbs are done away with and chests violently hacked open as I sit still and witness is all. The whole time, the bear stays quiet and doesn't say a single thing to try to make me feel better about it. Eventually the Galaxy on the television is that quiet too. She dies.
Galaxy is dead.
My friend is dead.
The sadness is awful and I cry these great, heaving, ugly tears, but it's not the same kind of sadness I felt after Aesop. That was a life changing kind of sadness that consumed me whole, but this is less angry and more quiet. I feel emptier. "I feel like this room," I whisper in the bear's ear.
There is no reply.
I knew, even as I grabbed Wolfgang's sleeve earlier, that distractions can only last so long. It wasn't easier, it was just away and if I could stay gone forever, I would, but I can't. I went home to toss and turn in my bed, to put off the morning and mourning, but I knew. The city was no escape, even if I kept my eyes off every television we passed there were still the faces of the people we passed. Nothing about their eyes said our girl lives! I've known this whole time. Galaxy is dead.
It's just been such a long time since I hoped for anything and I wasn't ready to give that feeling up yet.
There is a teddy bear abandoned on one of the seats directly in front of the television. I name her Galaxy and sit down beside her, the same way I used to watch television as a child. On screen the real Galaxy is covered in blood and struggling for breath. It's horrifying to watch. I've known her for years, both more and less as time complicated itself for us, but I've never seen this expression on her face before. She doesn't look like the girl who tried to befriend me despite everything. She looks like me.
Except there's so much blood and all the parts of their bodies aren't where they're supposed to be and this isn't what people look like. Those are already corpses on screen. I pull Galaxy-bear onto my lap and wrap my arms around her, hunkering down until my chin is resting on the top of her head. There are a couple dozen teddy bears at home on the bed I left in order to come here tonight, but none of them were this comforting. My whole life I whispered secrets in their fuzzy little ears and kept them close as I slept, but they never replied, no matter how much I pretended. They never hugged me back. They never made the bad things okay.
I watch. I watch everything I was supposed to see earlier tonight, quietly crying into the head of a stuffed bear like a lost little girl. Limbs are done away with and chests violently hacked open as I sit still and witness is all. The whole time, the bear stays quiet and doesn't say a single thing to try to make me feel better about it. Eventually the Galaxy on the television is that quiet too. She dies.
Galaxy is dead.
My friend is dead.
The sadness is awful and I cry these great, heaving, ugly tears, but it's not the same kind of sadness I felt after Aesop. That was a life changing kind of sadness that consumed me whole, but this is less angry and more quiet. I feel emptier. "I feel like this room," I whisper in the bear's ear.
There is no reply.
