Break Me | Drabble for waywardlightventus
Leave a “Break Me” in my ask, and I will write an angsty drabble about our characters.
Orange hues spilled across the sky, drifting into a deep blush before darkening enough to reveal the first appearance of the stars and their sparkling hearts millions of miles away, The horizon looked cold in the distance, smothered in clouds the colors of deep bruises.
Ventus counted the stars as they appeared, some nervous fear coaxing the darkness closer to bring the sparkling blanket with it. He wouldn’t turn around. The boy never did anymore, not when he would face the dipping light of his world’s sun. He wouldn’t turn to watch where the orange light spilled from clouds on the horizon, clouds tinted a deep crimson that brought to mind a certain keybearer, and with him, an unexplainable grief.
Terra and Aqua had noticed when he stopped watching the sun set, had noticed the film of water in his eyes even when he hadn’t. It worried them, but they didn’t press it. There would always be mystery surrounding the boy whose heart was ripped apart and left to decay. He was alive, and with them, but the extent the damage was impossible to gauge. There were so many questions lingering in the air, but no one would ask them in fear of tearing down some sort of patch over the boy’s heart. Not even he would risk that, as he could feel the shaky circumstances of his life.
No longer the obstinately cheerful boy they knew, Ventus was prone to bouts of silence, blue eyes always staring hard at the ground as if something troubled him. From seemingly nowhere, he had developed fits of rage and random triggers for anxiety that left him in a frozen state on the ground.
He didn’t know why, but the boy was often angry, but at what he would never know. It would start out as a deep, troubling pain and would grow into an undirected rage before spiraling into a deep sense of self-hatred. He couldn’t watch the sunset, laugh with his friends too long, or even train on some days. Even lying awake in his bedroom could send the boy into a melancholy that called forth silent tears.
The boy blinked, not realizing that the moon had appeared, full and glowing an odd shade of yellow as it did around this time of the year. Something struck the boy’s heart and he nearly shivered with the sudden wave of regret. Shaking his head, he turned back to the castle to turn in early, part of him feeling as if he would get little sleep once again.
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He felt trapped, the darkness around him never relenting even as visions of another life flitted in front of his vision – a flash of red and black, a clock tower washed gold in the sun’s spilling colors, dancing flames and a strange light brightening saddened blue eyes. He wanted to reach out for them, but his fingers touched nothing, just as he knew they would. There was nothing there to touch, and there never would be. An overwhelming sense of loss flooded into him as he stopped reaching and merely watched, trapped by the darkness and the visions that he wanted to grab onto so badly. It wasn’t fair.
It should have been him.
He wasn’t sure what that meant, but he just knew that he wanted to be the one gone, the one that didn’t have to reach for what was lost even though he knew he’d never again fill that hole in his chest. He was so cold and so alone, trapped inside and he hated himself for it. He hurt and he hated and he just wanted it to go away, to stop being, to stop acknowledging that something was there and that something was wrong, that he wasn’t supposed to be there.
He didn’t want to be himself anymore. He hated himself. Some part of him hated everything about him with a deep anguish. He just wanted to scream.
He was a thief, a captor, and he held that part of him inside, couldn’t let it out if he wanted to. It was so foreign and so cold, so hurt. Why couldn’t he just cut it out? He didn’t want it anymore. It wasn’t him, that much he knew.
Why wouldn’t it go away? He never asked for this.
Ventus awoke early in the morning with the feeling of something heavy on his chest. His pillow was wet with tears and the pale light of the moon did nothing to help his sense of dread. Biting his lip, he sat up and curled into a ball with his blankets around him, wanting nothing more than to run away. To where, he didn’t know, but he just felt like he needed to get away, to find whatever it was that he was missing.
Crimson spikes drifted into his thoughts and he had the urge to see Lea, but that thought merely tightened the knot in his chest and he buried his head into his arms, feeling at a complete loss. He wasn’t sure what he wanted or what he could do to feel better and that merely added to his sense of helplessness.
He just didn’t want to be him anymore.
