| This is definitely not one of my better fics. It's meant to explain how Lady Une got her split personalities. Actually, it's more like a brief episode in her life, but you get the idea. Based on two songs by Bush; the first, "Glycerine", and the second, "The Warm Machine". *sniffle* Anywho, does require some actual thought, but not a very big vocabulary. Gundam Wing ) Bandai, Sotsu Agency, and Sunrise. Characters used to the smallest extent possible. Please don't sue me, thanks. ^_^ Glycerine By Inaho, aka Sailor Deimos Behind the house was a large field. It hadn't been mowed or plowed in years, and tall, hay-like grasses grew freely and without restraint, sheltering mice, rabbits, and other small nuisances from the farmer-mechanic who neither bothered to deal with his obvious infestation problem, nor cared. The field went on for a few acres, but stopped abruptly at a long line of trees, and from there onward the land for miles around was covered in thick, tightly packed together forest. Anne was out the backdoor and tearing towards the field in a flash of white shirts and brown skirts. She jumped off the back porch, her bare feet scraping against splinters from the wood and chipped paint. She narrowly avoided slipping on the gravel driveway and landing on her face, and continued on her mad flight towards the field. It wasn't until she was halfway across the green, unmanicured lawn between the field and the house when she heard the sound of the back porch door swing open on its rusty hinges, smashing violently into the side of the gray house. She ran faster, pumping her legs, screaming at herself on the inside to run harder, while trying hard to ignore the throbbing pain in her broken arm. I can make it, I can make it. I don't need an arm to run, I can make it. Somewhere on the other side of the trees there is a military base I know it I've heard the sound of the war machines before. Please God, I know if I can reach that base everything will be okay I have to make it. The moment her feet brushed against the first straw grasses of the field, she felt a sudden burst of energy, and smiled in spite of herself. Maybe, just maybe, there was a chance that she would be able to reach the tree line and disappear into the forest. She could find that base where the war machines were kept, and they'd take her in and she'd be fine. And even if you couldn't find it, she could still hide from Olivier while he sobered up, even for a short time. And if she could do it once, she knew she could do it again. "ANNE!" Olivier roared from the porch. At the sound of his voice her hope began to crumble before fear, and she started to panic. And for a moment she could have sworn to dij` vu; that she had tried this before and failed before. Yet she couldn't remember when or how or even why, only that she had done this and lost. He's going to chase me, She thought. He's going to chase me, but that doesn't mean he'll be able to catch me. And she smiled again. Yes! I'll make it, I know I can. The tall grasses whipped against her legs and feet, warning mice to flee in the opposite direction. Crows took to the air, shrieking nastily down at her for disturbing their scavenge for food. Anne ignored everything as she made for the tree line; the grass, the animals, the sound of Olivier calling her name as he chased after her. She was getting closer, oh so closer; closer to freedom, closer to peace, farther and farther away from the house and her life and everyone who- Her foot caught on something; a rabbit hole, right in the middle of her path. She cried out as she tripped, not because the pain in arm began shot up again, but because she knew, as she fell towards the ground, that there was no way she could make it now. Yes, the trees were close, but Olivier was even closer. She could hear his boots pounding against the ground, could feel the vibrations they made. And in her mind, and in her heart, the trees were millions of miles away. And again there was the feeling that this had happened to her before, even though she couldn't place when and where. And instead of getting up, she lay flat and her stomach and stared at the grass, trying to remember- Something strong and sticky grabbed a hold of her good arm and twisted it, wrenching her up off the ground and tossing her down on her backside like a rag doll. Olivier kneeled over her, covered in car grease and sweat and breathing his booze-scented breath onto her face. "What did I tell you about running?" Olivier slurred. Anne looked at him, but not in his eyes. Whenever she did, she went paralyzed with fear. So she looked past him instead, at the sky. It was a prefect shade of blue, with full, white clouds rolling by without a care under the watchful and ever present eye of the sun. This isn't happening to me. Suddenly she felt serene some how. She wasn't afraid anymore; everything was going to be alright. Of course! This happened to her all the time, did it not? It wasn't so bad; after a while it stopped hurting. Physical pain wasn't much when compared to mental anguish, but she never felt that anymore. "The sky is gorgeous, isn't it?" She said quietly. It was blue, her favorite color. "It's so beautiful." Olivier punched her hard in the face, sending blood and tears flying onto the grass and the ground. Anne didn't move then; not her mouth, not her head. She simply watched the light brown grass as it swayed with the rhythm of the wind. No pain, nothing at all. Just distance yourself from it and become a new person. Hide behind a mask. That was the key. Olivier bent down closer to her face till his mouth was right over her ear. "I said, 'Don't run', didn't I? Pisses me off when you don't do as I say, little girl. Isn't that right? ISN'T IT, ANNE? ANSWER ME WHEN I SPEAK TO YOU, GODDAMNIT!" "Yes, sir." "Good." Distantly, she felt something toy with the buttons on her blouse, but she didn't pay any attention to it. Instead, she continued to watch the grass as it waved back and forth, back and forth, back and forth to the will of the wind. Next to her, a cricket stopped, sang, and leapt away. Anne wished she could have chased after it. That would have been fun. She could have followed the cricket across the field and into the forest, and out the other end, where she would be away from Olivier and the farm and the car shop and her town and everything, and she could lie down on her back in a field of green grass and stare up at the sky, watching the clouds go by under the watchful eye of the sun forever and ever and ever. |
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