promethean drabbles

I wonder if Candy knows where I went. I wonder if she misses me

When it comes down to it, I may be bigger but in a lot of ways, she's been stronger. When the news broke, that... that what happen is gonna make New Dawn pretty much impossible, she shrugged her shoulders and kept going. She's not happy, of course. But she can keep on living.

I don't know if I can.

I still feel it. The spark still burns in my chest, right over my heart. Every time I dream I feel the tug of hope, trying to tell me what to do. The Fire still seems to think there's a chance, but more and more I'm starting to doubt. People can't stant the sight of me. Before, I'd at least have a little while. A few hours, maybe even a few days. Now, it's immediate.

No chance to get close to them, not even after all the time I spent watching them, loving them from a distance. Trying so hard to make them happy, make them think I was worth something.

Not even the music sounds nice to me anymore. It just reminds me of what I can't have. I found myself looking at the tattoos on my arms, and for the first time ever, I wanted them to go away.

Maybe, someday, I'll be able to look at myself again. Maybe I can push through anyway, see if there's another way. But... not now. It hurts too much.

I'm so sorry, to everyone, for disappearing without a word. Maybe I'll come back. And if I do, I hope you've saved a place for me. I really do love all of you.

---

Breathe in. Cold air shocks through the lifeless lungs. Breathe out. A cloud rises through the air, in front of her eyes.

Things start to click into place. She is a body, quickly warming up against the chilled ground. Like a match, the small lump of radioactive material imbedded in her chest strikes the form back to life, sparking divine fire. Vital functions creak and whirr as they start up once more.

/My eyes? Me? What is me?/

The fire ignites the brain and a new consciousness is born, staring dumbly up at a crisp sunset sky. A sheet of orange and pink and dark blue just overhead, tiny, flickering lights coming into focus. The newborn, finding that she can indeed control the body she finds herself in, reaches up, but finds that she just can't touch that pretty white crescent.

But in this new movement, something else makes itself known. A dull, throbbing ache that traces the bones of her arm. Yes, it's everywhere, isn't it? Twitching her fingers into the ground brings the same pain, as does trying to move her legs to sit up. It doesn't stop her, but it punctuates every movement.

Her arm enters her line of sight, and she gets her first glance at at herself. Thin, with flesh nearly clinging to the bone. The skin is pale, slightly clammy, with curious black stitching running up the underside and looping around. One patch stands out, dry and flaking with a few tufts of brown fur clinging on. She touches the patch, and it itches and chafes.

/This is not my skin./ She thinks, even if she doesn't completely comprehend what it means.

She brings herself up, shaking, to her bare feet, feeling stones and twigs dig into the tender underside. Her body is covered by a thin, white, oversized shirt. It's slightly damp, clinging uncomfortably to her body, but some residual memory tells her she should leave it on. Because.

/What now?/

It's a very good question. Where is an aching, memory-less creature supposed to go? What should she do?

She touches her chest. She should be feeling cold, and to some extent, she is. But something in there is warm. And the more she focuses, the more it almost soothes the pain deep down. It's something... not quite happy, but insistent. And it traces its glow forward, paving a path through the empty patch of land ahead. Towards where an orange glow is cast in the sky.

It tells her, the road ahead will be hard. Your body will ache. The rocks will scar your feet. There is no certainty.

But you must not give up.

On the other side, it will become clear that you are not alone.

She begins to walk.