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rainbowfic2015-08-18 09:54 pm
starphotographs) wrote in rainbowfic2015-08-18 09:54 pm
Admin Yellow 8
Name: starphotographs
Story: Universe B
Supplies and Styles: Graffiti (Summer Carnival, Lilith Fair Village Stage: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bimam2j2gEg)
Characters: Milo (POV), the doctor is Calvin, but I hardly consider this a real introduction.
Colors: Admin Yellow 8 (There's no such thing as a risk-free life.)
Word Count: 834
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Choose not to warn.
Summary: Milo goes on the only way he knows how.
Note: All three songs again! :D
Bloodletting
I didn’t have the breath to explain to the doctor why I didn’t come in before it got this bad. So my brother did the talking for me.
I wanted to apologize.
I shouldn’t need a spokesman.
The doctor said he couldn’t make any promises, but that I’m here now, and he’ll do his best.
I tried to say I would, too, but my body wasn’t cooperating.
And what would that even mean?
What is my best these days?
I’m not what I used to be.
Then the doctor jammed a metal spike in my side, let all the air out of my lung. That part, he said, was an accident.
When a pint of blood and muck rushed in to a plastic bag at my side, he said that part was on purpose. That it would let me breathe.
I felt myself start, and I watched all the old garbage flow away. Stagnant clumps of myself. All the red dust that ever caught in my throat. Sleepless nights, and effort, and terror, and the facility, and Mars.
Everything was out in the open now. What I’d done to myself. What had been done to me.
And I thought, are you happy now?
If I’m the person I was asking, then yes, I am.
I’m bleeding from a hole in my side, and my whole body is moist and sticky, and I can’t tell if I’m hot or cold, and I think I’m still dying, but I’m happy.
Go figure.
Maybe I’m just delirious.
Or maybe I’m grasping at a return to the only way I know how to live.
Hard labor, suppressed pain, slow death; a mad dash to somewhere else.
I got to Earth. It’s arguable if I was still in one piece.
And I’ll get to whatever’s on the other side of this.
In as many pieces as it can smash me in to.
It can’t be all that many.
It’s never been too many to rebuild.
starphotographsStory: Universe B
Supplies and Styles: Graffiti (Summer Carnival, Lilith Fair Village Stage: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bimam2j2gEg)
Characters: Milo (POV), the doctor is Calvin, but I hardly consider this a real introduction.
Colors: Admin Yellow 8 (There's no such thing as a risk-free life.)
Word Count: 834
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Choose not to warn.
Summary: Milo goes on the only way he knows how.
Note: All three songs again! :D
I didn’t have the breath to explain to the doctor why I didn’t come in before it got this bad. So my brother did the talking for me.
I wanted to apologize.
I shouldn’t need a spokesman.
The doctor said he couldn’t make any promises, but that I’m here now, and he’ll do his best.
I tried to say I would, too, but my body wasn’t cooperating.
And what would that even mean?
What is my best these days?
I’m not what I used to be.
Then the doctor jammed a metal spike in my side, let all the air out of my lung. That part, he said, was an accident.
When a pint of blood and muck rushed in to a plastic bag at my side, he said that part was on purpose. That it would let me breathe.
I felt myself start, and I watched all the old garbage flow away. Stagnant clumps of myself. All the red dust that ever caught in my throat. Sleepless nights, and effort, and terror, and the facility, and Mars.
Everything was out in the open now. What I’d done to myself. What had been done to me.
And I thought, are you happy now?
If I’m the person I was asking, then yes, I am.
I’m bleeding from a hole in my side, and my whole body is moist and sticky, and I can’t tell if I’m hot or cold, and I think I’m still dying, but I’m happy.
Go figure.
Maybe I’m just delirious.
Or maybe I’m grasping at a return to the only way I know how to live.
Hard labor, suppressed pain, slow death; a mad dash to somewhere else.
I got to Earth. It’s arguable if I was still in one piece.
And I’ll get to whatever’s on the other side of this.
In as many pieces as it can smash me in to.
It can’t be all that many.
It’s never been too many to rebuild.
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