12-05-2007, 05:45 AM
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He had absolutely no idea why he was there, but that was hardly unusual. And maybe deep down, he really did know why, but they were always such stupid and pathetic reasons that it was just easier to deny them completely. Oh, because denial had done him so much good, had it? He could have laughed to himself, but something about the prospect of hearing himself echo down the crystalline chambers scared him -- probably the fact that he hadn't really laughed in so long that the laugh belonged to someone else entirely now. Besides, his reflection was a hideous enough sight as it was. Laruku hardly recognized himself anymore. Scars seemed to obscure half his face, both his ears had more or less been torn in half, and he looked so dead. His face was like a skull and his eyes were sunken and tired. And splintered into a thousand pieces because of the dazzling crystals.
The hybrid stopped and sat, leaning against a wall. Looking up, he traced two fingers over the mostly-healed gash over his throat and sighed. He could feel the fur and skin ripple beneath his touch and he could feel himself swallow. Death would be easy, theoretically, but theoretical things were labeled theoretical for a reason. You should have died that morning. All it would take was a split-second impulse. That's all it would take. But he had no such impulse right then. He had a daughter at home that would miss him if he disappeared, even if he wished desperately for her to just hate him. Looking at her hurt him in more ways than he could ever describe with words, but words had failed him for a thousand other feelings too.
Laruku pulled his knees up and rested his arms and head on them. It was quiet and lonely there -- it had been his goal, perhaps, just to get away a moment, but now that he was there, he wished he wasn't. Even here, in this obscure little cave, there were so many memories.
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He had absolutely no idea why he was there, but that was hardly unusual. And maybe deep down, he really did know why, but they were always such stupid and pathetic reasons that it was just easier to deny them completely. Oh, because denial had done him so much good, had it? He could have laughed to himself, but something about the prospect of hearing himself echo down the crystalline chambers scared him -- probably the fact that he hadn't really laughed in so long that the laugh belonged to someone else entirely now. Besides, his reflection was a hideous enough sight as it was. Laruku hardly recognized himself anymore. Scars seemed to obscure half his face, both his ears had more or less been torn in half, and he looked so dead. His face was like a skull and his eyes were sunken and tired. And splintered into a thousand pieces because of the dazzling crystals.
The hybrid stopped and sat, leaning against a wall. Looking up, he traced two fingers over the mostly-healed gash over his throat and sighed. He could feel the fur and skin ripple beneath his touch and he could feel himself swallow. Death would be easy, theoretically, but theoretical things were labeled theoretical for a reason. You should have died that morning. All it would take was a split-second impulse. That's all it would take. But he had no such impulse right then. He had a daughter at home that would miss him if he disappeared, even if he wished desperately for her to just hate him. Looking at her hurt him in more ways than he could ever describe with words, but words had failed him for a thousand other feelings too.
Laruku pulled his knees up and rested his arms and head on them. It was quiet and lonely there -- it had been his goal, perhaps, just to get away a moment, but now that he was there, he wished he wasn't. Even here, in this obscure little cave, there were so many memories.