On a beach, a girl lifts her arm to the sun, basking in the warmth of it's rays and feeling the calm, pulling waves around her feet. Come with us, come and play, they called. The wind laughs and kites are pulled along with it, savoring the moment. Ride me, let me humor you until I die, it laughs.
Her long hair flew back as the wind blew, that salty, fresh wind that woke your body and sent tingles down your spine. I can't, she cried silently to the wind and the waves.
I can't. This time is only borrowed, a small, yet perfect fragment of forever... Shaking her head, she runs away, her bare, wet feet pounding the hot sand and hearing the waves and the wind call her. Come back, come back to us...
During this, the sun beat down, that cold, uncaring sun.
In India, a small, one room house stands. The bland colors contrast to that dark, sun-beaten down skin of the natives, pounding on their drums, chanting a cry that told of freedom and equality everywhere.
Somewhere, a baby cries as it's mother desperatly tries to quiet it down. A dingy, dirty lightbulb was the only thing that gave light. A fly sits on the wall, staring up to that bright, beckoning light on the ceiling. Closer, it whispered. Clo-ser. Clo-ser.
The fly pushed off, it's tiny body reacting, but not feeling. Listening to that voice, promising of air and the sweet scent of heather, the feel of wind on it's wings.
Clo-ser. Clo-ser. The voice whispered. Come to me, bathe in my light.
Clo-ser. Clo-ser. It hummed.
But the voice lied, the fly thought as it's body burned, crushed against that, blinding, brilliant, beautiful light. It hummed with pleasure as the fly fell, it's voice calling him.
A hawk circled avove a field, it's keen eyes searching for it's Prey. He was the Master, he controlled this place. Swooping down, his talons crushed a small animal- mouse or vole, maybe- before he tore the body apart.
He savored the taste of blood, gulping down the still-warm liver. After a moment's hesitation, when he had stripped the body clean, he took the skull and crushed it under his strong foot, realising it's spirit.
He took flight again, remembering the day when he took total control. He remembered the fight, the feel of blood under his talons, that satisfying pain, and his victory as the old Master lay dead.
The King is dead. Long live the King. He thought bitterly before catching a swift breeze and leaving his thoughts behind.
100 years in the future, a large hospital stands. In the very middle, where no one goes, is a person.
She's on one of those beds, and around her are countless wires. All taking a part of her, feeding her- just barley holding on, she's like a candle in the wind.
A screen that records her memorys flickers with darkness- she has never, not once in her 14 years, opened her her die, the doctors whisper. She'll be happier. She'll be free.
Not once has she spoken, but she can. Not once has she seen anything, but she dreams of light.
She dreams of a girl with long, golden hair, running over the soft sand, the waves and wind calling her back. She dreams of a fly, crushed with the burning heat and screaming as he fell, Lier. Lier. Lier... She dreams of a Hawk, the Master as he remembers the sweet taste of victory.
She thinks to herself, is this being alive? Is this living? as a steady beat fills the room, the sound of her heartbeat. Boom-boom, boom-boom...
She stirs slightly, her eyelids flickering. The machine goes wild, alerting the doctors who watch her. Soon, she thinks, they will all come, surrounding me. I must wake up from this darkness before they come.
A voice calls, down the hall. Now or never. Soon... I will be Alive.
The child opens her bright, blood-red eyes.
"Who am I?"
Meh, not the best. I had to do this, cuz' a) mind writing is my hobby, b) i hate teachers. Tell me what you think!