Autobio by proxy_flame
Summary: Drabbles describing the life of an unknown, damaged girl.
Categories: Non-Naruto Fiction > Original stories, Non-Naruto Fiction Characters: None
Genres: Angst, Dark
Warnings: Dark, Death
Challenges: None
Series: None
Chapters: 4 Completed: No Word count: 1216 Read: 4145 Published: 06/06/14 Updated: 01/06/15

1. Chapter 1 by proxy_flame

2. Chapter 2 by proxy_flame

3. Chapter 3 by proxy_flame

4. Chapter 4 by proxy_flame

Chapter 1 by proxy_flame
Music plays down through the years, at first chosen to emulate her father and then later as her personality changed. Oldies, hard rock, metal, classical and then a blend of music that described her as well as she was able to see herself.

She was hurt, and fixed herself as well as she was able even when not understanding the cause and nature of her injuries. Unable to fix some she patched them with blood and tears.

Years passed and she degenerated slowly in some ways and grew in others. A job brought a host of unexpected stress, in many ways and change more rapidly than at any time her life.

***


Her fingers skitter across the keyboard, putting down heartwords. It hurts but she knows that without it she'll falter and fall; love is not enough when there is no release.

Music is there in her ears as usual.

It is her balm from the pain of life and love.

Writing is her new tool. And she wills it to become her legacy.

***


She weeps because there is never enough to fill the gaps and cracks, because she knows that she will forever be alone and there is no one there that she can turn to for help.

As long as she is able she keeps her eyes from the blades. As long as she is able, she tries to fix what is too crushed to repair. There is no more light, only grayness as the lights fade.

Eventually they will fade completely and she will be black enough to join the shadows that live at the edge of the world. When that day comes there will be no more world. No more blood and tears and those around her will await their turns to join the shadows at the edge of the world.
Chapter 2 by proxy_flame
The shadows at the edge of the world have no time within themselves. They are there as is all of existence, eternal and unending with no beginning. They contain all that is small and weak, everything that is bad which has no place in light.

Shadows stretch their first delicate tendrils out once they see that others they have infected begin to stretch towards you. They burn at first because of the light your soul emits but then as others close in, crushing around you, your light begins to dim. Then they use the masses around you to consume the spark within you until you are grey.

When you are grey is when you are weak and more powerful than you will ever be. The shadows know this and they wait to see, for they cannot do more than reach through others. You must make the final move to become part of them.


***



She sits in a public place with the music beating through her soul and wonders what God hears when he listens the heartbeats of seven billion people. As the ultimate musician he must hear something incredible. But then she and God aren't really on the best of terms.

The stars begin to come out as she sits and again her thoughts turn to music. Their music must be something to hear. Then she closes her eyes and everything becomes one great wash of sound flowing through her mind.

A shadow breaks the torrent.
Chapter 3 by proxy_flame
There is nothing she can do that can ever cure the crumbling mountain in her soul. There are only rocks left, and boulders of what was once a volcano. By her own hand the volcano is dormant and close to extinction. It will not awaken save for the apocalypse.

She eyes the shadows and is certain there will be an apocalypse. Looking down at the ground under the ledge she sits on she sees tiny rocks and ants. Suddenly, she is no different than they.

The world is so large and she is so small.For a few long moments that is her reality. For a few long moments, that is her existence. It only takes a moment, but the shadows at the edge of the world greedily creep closer to her soul.


***


A giant steps toward her, the thunder of his footsteps echoing in the tiny world, each deep throbbing drum in the music mocking her as the footsteps land. She looks down and the ants pay no attention to the intruder coming between her contemplation of them and their business. She looks back up and the face looms in the sky of her mind, ominous and damning.

She thinks there is no escape. Yet another wave dashes against her, slams into her, rocks the shaky platform she perches on and slowly erodes the supports. Soon she must find new ones. She looks down at the face from above, inside the glass box she builds in that presence.

She was mistaken to think that she could find another support in this.

Fool's gold.

She lies back and drowns in the waves.
Chapter 4 by proxy_flame
She half-closes her eyes and concentrates on feeling the shadow squirm inside her skin. There isn’t much sensation. It isn’t very big or very strong.

It is there all the same, she knows.

Soon terror begins to well up inside her as pressure builds against her. The oceans are eroding the cliffs of her soul. Inside her, the shadow smiles to itself, burrowing into softness and nuzzling at the light.


***



The giant has gone, her supports are stable. She rests in the current as the waters of her little world swirl around her. A dark little fish swims up and for a time she takes pleasure in its simplicity of being with her, the easy, gentle play.

She thinks, hopes, that the horror of the giant will be relieved by the little one. She fears too that she is wrong. It comes to pass that she is wrong.


***


Once upon a time there was a girl in the grip of a giant. One day she was standing somewhere thinking about the bruises the giant had left on her soul. One little fish swam up curiously and peered at her. It had somehow managed to pass through the little shell she had pressed around herself.

Glittering in colors she knew from the little house on the supports the little fish glided around her hypnotically. She peers into the iridescent scales and is lost in the depths. The tethers tighten and choke her, blood coming from abrasions on her tender skin and leaking memories into the water.

The little fish gobbles up the trickling memories, pausing now and then to contemplate. She floats to the surface, slender strands of hair floating around her, clothes sliding around her body; limbs pulled this way and that in the current.


***



Her sky is a dead murky color; the water reflects and she absorbs. The little fish calls, a siren song.
It hurts to respond. It hurts so badly sometimes she slips back into the fetters that still bind her around the neck. The little fish notices and swims determinedly around her, nibbling steadily at the ropes, all the while singing the siren song.

The rope is strong, created over a decade and tested repeatedly, often violently. But to her bemusement the little fish finds a way to turn the tight, careful construction into shreds of its former glory.
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