Undeniably, notes don't go in the beginning. Oh well, after losing my
original version while building my website (which is still not done, stupid
FTP servers), I do want to make it clear that my work is STILL alive! Yes, I
am alive but under probation (I'm not kidding, I've been put under watch by
my parents because they think I'm writing too much). Chapter Two of Worlds
Best Left Alone is almost done and ready to be sent off to my pre-readers.
My website should hopefully be up by the end of next week. If not, look for
it next month.
If you have AOL, you might recieve this in tasteful Comic San MS font. Blame
AOL, not me. I hate automation but life's life.
I've felt this version is better, but it's for you to judge. Besides, you
can delete as well (as long as I don't get flames, hopefully). Keep in mind,
this is still considered my first works (yeah, that's gonna get me a lot of
flames. . ).
Ah, and titles have been cleared up.
When Old Times Are New: Book Two
The Worlds Best Left Alone
Prologue: Future's Fury
When she woke up gasping for breath, it was cold. Freezing
cold. Puffs of her breath blew into the air, dropping to ice.
She took no heed as she remembered, engrossed too deep in her
thoughts to notice. Long black hair hung in thick strands, some
mangled with ice and blood, some perfectly straight and smooth. Skin
the color of cream, blotchy white and pink where varicose veins stood
out slightly. She looked halfway dead.
What she remembered was far from dead, however. A cloud of red
passed over her mind, angry at what had happened and her friends had
done. As blinding as it was, part of her remained, angry at herself
for doing what she had done.
She had already paid the price. No, it was time for everyone
else to.
So she had gone, passing by those who stared with
astonishment--had they remembered like she had. So she passed those
mortal fools cursed with immortality, grabbing them by the threads and
whispering to them words of ancient secrets for the cure they sought
so long ago. So she passed those armored troops that could do nothing
but stare with glazed eyes, eyes too old for their young bodies held
forever in tune with their souls. She passed the gods and goddesses
that could look with pitiful looks, quite aware of what was to be done.
Beyond that she met new heroes and heroines, merely children.
As she had once been, she reminded herself. Among she found the
warriors she seeked. Friends, they called themselves.
She knew though. They were far from friends. They were
family, relatives and siblings from a time long ago she dared not
speak of.
She held them close and asked them why, asked them to look
into her eyes and see what they had done, asked them to understand what
she had gone through, asked them if they would have done the same. She
knew they would always answer the same, believing they were kind and
caring. Oh, but they had never known.
When the women came, they had not said a word about her death.
They were on no terms to say such things when they were dead
themselves. The destroyer was there, violet eyes hardening into little
jewels. A true friend who knew, but also trained for duty first.
Why, she had been asked so many times. Why had she done this?
Simple, came the answer. Simply because I -am- this way. I
was -made- this way.
The destroyer was destroyed.
Then came the golden warriors, defiant as they ever had been,
cocky and sure. She dared lean close to their burning auras, grabbing
them by the wrists to lock them tight and tell them. Tell them that
they had -no- idea what went on. Tell them that she had made a mistake
so foolish she couldn't control and no one told her at the time, and
now she was paying for it.
No, she -had- paid for it.
Their response was awkward surprised, their brilliance gone
with their defenses.
*Leave them alone.*
She gasped in startled surprised, turning to see who it was.
At last came the woman dressed all in white, someone who
perhaps had shared the experience.
Why do you not see what you've laid waste to, the woman asked
her, the majestic symbol upon the forehead blinding her. Why do you
not see how selfish you were?
Was she selfish? Yes, but for good reasons. Had she laid
waste to the land? Certainly, it was chaos, but the planet had
already been wasted.
Then why do you not chose to remember beyond everything else,
came the last question.
Because what was done overshadowed everything, she snarled in
reponse.
A brilliant light sprouted from the crystal the woman held,
tearing the entity that she had kept for so long apart. She could not
copy the irreproducible, she could not fight what she was created
from.
And what was she created from? The question came from
herself.
She couldn't answer it. She could only remember it.
_____________________________________________
Can you catch how many series I mentioned in it? It's may
be a little hard. .
-- Juuchan, chibi jinzouningen
"I deny all allegations of me being on crack."
Definitive parody of life: Unfinished Business
Definitive parody of my non-existant life: OOF!
<Webpage invalid due to the destruction of not one, but TWO HTML editors>
Act like an angel and ye be free, act like an angel with adults and ye get
away with murder.
AIM: (What else?) Ms Kuchan