WARNINGS: Death-fic, Heero’s POV

Terrible Anguish

By: Skylar Inari

November

A.C 195

It’s snowing. My eyes follow the erratic path of the gently falling flakes with an intense passion. Even as I stare I feel weak, useless and above all pathetic. I don’t like the snow, very much at all.

Correction. I hate the snow.

It’s gentle and yet can kill. It can be a thing of great beauty and it is also one of the most terrible of all the natural demons that plague the earth and it’s colonies. I don’t understand it at all. Why should a thing of such beauty be a killer? Why?! It doesn’t make sense!

Duo says I’m beautiful. I don’t believe him at all. Because if I were beautiful then I wouldn’t be a killer. Right? I think so. However Duo does not see it in the same light. He sees all life as beautiful - except OZ - and thinks that it all deserves an equal chance to grow in it’s own direction. I don’t understand that. I don’t understand how he can laugh even though he is a gundam pilot who has destroyed many peoples lives because they were connected to OZ.

I know I laugh when I kill in my Gundam but that’s because my training will not allow me to show the stress of the situation any other way. So I laugh.

However, my laughter is just a weak shadow of the sheer joy contained in most people’s laughter. I wish I could laugh like that. But I can’t because I’m not beautiful.

That little girl and her puppy were beautiful. They could laugh as loud as they wanted to and had all the time they needed to grow………………..until I killed them. That horrible night when the explosives I planted in the base ran out of control and crashed into her home, I destroyed two lives that had had a chance to do what ever they wanted to with them.

I can’t forgive myself for that. I probably never will either.

I now sit by the window in one of Quatre’s numerous mansions and do nothing but stare at the snow as it gradually thickens in to a thick white blanket that covers the ground. We’ll be getting less missions for a while. The snow makes the Gundams harder to operate, and makes self-destruction all but impossible to do.

A dagger is in my hand. I’ve kept it hidden from everyone else because if they saw it they’d take it away from me. They know about my wishes to die, and will do everything that they can do to prevent that. I don’t care.

I don’t see how my dying shall effect them all that much. I don’t try to become friends with them, I will not talk to them very often and I stay in my room as much as is possible. So I will die. I will die happily knowing that now I can finally confront the spirit of that little girl and explain what happened on that night so very long ago.

It snowed then also.

I lift the dagger to my chest and plunge it in. It hurts, but not as much as the pain that has forced me to come to this does, so I do not mind.

And, in terrible anguish I slip limply to the floor.

~owari~

I know it’s short, but I don’t like inhabiting Heero’s brain.