Post by MICHELINE BONHEUR on Jul 17, 2010 15:56:15 GMT -5
michelle, my belle, these are words that go together well
michelle, my belle. sont des mots qui vont très bien ensemble, très bien ensemble.
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"I can't sleep when you're talking like this..."
there was no one there to answer her.
"if you want me to sleep, shut up."
again, no one responded. only the tumble of the waves hitting the shore and pulling back.
"shut up. stop it, stop talking."
nothing.
"I want to sleep. you want me to sleep. I can't, though. I can't when you keep talking like this. I can't go to sleep when you keep. on. talking." a pause. a breath. "cesser de parler."
a frustrated hiss was came off of her lips, the only noise other than the tide. it seemed that the one that assaulted her ears did not go away, but she simply could not control that. onward and onward she went, cursing her wakefulness in that dreadful pitch. how could she fall under when such a noise was eating away at her? it made no sense, absolutely no sense. the only way she was ever going to close her eyes to descend into her dreams was if her sister stopped. if she shut up, like Chellie bid her to. otherwise, this was where she ended up.
here.
where was here? "Giselle, shut up." it was the beaches that surrounded the island city. the places of sand and shells, of waves and salt. beneath her, the sand brushed against her bare toes--socks and shoes discarded at some earlier point. on her face the wind smacked in all of its morning briskness. a faint mist had settled over the water, causing cloudy vision. for some reason, though, she found it to be more calming than it should have been. paranoia usually would've caught her at this point, told her that something was lurking in the areas where the mist grew thicker, where it resembled more of a fog than anything less. but for reasons unknown, she felt more safe than usual.
perhaps, though, it was simply the distraction of her persistent sister that kept her far from her usual anxiety. one of those blessings hidden within a curse.
"it's four in the morning. four in the morning. the morning. leave me alone. let me sleep. shut up, shut up."
then, a splash to the left.
"hello?"
splash, splash, splash.
"who are you? what are you doing? ...shut up, Giselle, shut up"
the continued sound, something that she couldn't ignore, just like she couldn't with Giselle. curiosity was never her strong suit, she actually hated any prickle of it and ignored it with a fiery passion, but... this. this was strange. someone wading out at this hour of the morning? with not a word? why...?
"they're going to shoot you."
she had moved out some to follow him, as the weight of his clothes had not taken him out far. up to nearly his hips, she some yards away, still near the shore. he had stopped once she spoke those words, the imminent doom of his escape settling on his shoulders and keeping him from going farther.
"you'll die."
the mist was heavy enough that his entire body was unfocused, a dreary blur in the corner of her eye. but the sound of his strangled sob made her realize this was not some illusion. there was someone right here, right now trying to escape in front of her eyes. it was strange, and her feet willed her to continue their route towards him, but she remained still. there was a tilt of her head that he could not see, a confused draw of her eyebrows. there was a simple solution to all of this. don't do it. yet, it seemed by his sobs that he simply had to. that he was set on it.
"it's going to hurt. you're going to hurt. for the rest of eternity. you're going to burn. forever. you'll die and then you'll burn forever."
another sob, then more splashing. a few minutes later, as she stood in an eerie stillness at the shore, she heard the shot. the bang. the end of a life. he was too far away for her to see any of the color, the crimson.
"I'm going to burn one day, aren't I?" whispered. "...four in the morning, shut up Giselle."
dawn was approaching.