Post by Amaroa on Aug 29, 2007 4:08:22 GMT -5
Rating- PG13 (Strong language.)
Only 519 words long, typed up in an hour or so.
Tell me if I fail, it's my first real fan-fiction, so be blunt, and a bit harsh.
(I kind of had a running idea that Clyde was always picked on for being so feminine. Maybe he was beaten up by a bunch of kids for it? This raises the question of why I want Clyde to have had a tough past.)
Edit: Done at 4 A.M.
Clyde/Murphy
Enigma
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
He awoke with a start, screaming, sweating, crying.
'Oh god' he thought, pain coursing through him. But he felt detached. The only thing he could focus on were his memories. 'Why? Why me?' an internalized question that pierced him, every day, every hour, every second.
Molly was long gone. Dead, with the others he had known. This fact didn't stop the pain every time Murphy saw him... no, every time he saw her. He saw her in the boy's body, in his movement, in his face, his eyes, and even his smile.
The only reason he had wanted Clyde on board was his resemblance to Molly. Now Murphy was growing to resent the boy because of it.
The subject of his resentment was suddenly in the room, worry deep in his eyes.
Murphy's arm immediately rose to wipe the tears from his face. It didn't quite make it.
Clyde concerned face, his expressive eyes brimming with tears. "You're up!" And before Murphy knew what was happening, there were arms around him.
"Ohmygod, I'msosorryIleftyouthereallalone" A gasping breath. "Iwasafraidyouweren'tgoingtowakeupand" Another breath of the same kind. "Stop, Clyde."
"Sorry." He said. He wasn't quite composed, and tears were threatening to spill from his beautiful eyes. "I was jus-" He was abruptly cut off. "I said stop."
"Stop what?" He could feel his arms being loosened from around Murphy. "Murphy?"
"Stop caring. People get hurt. People die. It happens. I'm sorry to shatter your little perceptions that the world is rainbow and candy and unicorn shit, but the world is harsh. It's cold and cruel and hateful. People die for what they believe and people die for how they're born and people die for things they can't change. That's the way it is."
"You think I don't know that? You think because I'm cheery that I believe people live forever, in perfect health and happiness? I've had my share of hardship. My share of discrimination, MORE THAN MY FAIR FUCKING SHARE OF HATE! It's naive of you to assume that because I try to pull a little fucking joy into my life and the lives of others, that I have misconceptions about the world. You may like to live in doom and gloom, but you know what, there's and upside to life, too. You need to grow up and realize that just because you're predisposed to one, it doesn't mean the other doesn't exist."
Murphy wasn't expecting a retaliation of this sort. He was left practically speechless. A "Wait!" stuck in his throat as the immensely confusing Clyde left the room.
'What the hell did Clyde mean?' He pondered as he drifted back to sleep, letting the nightmare reclaim him. Only this time, in Molly's place, was Clyde.
When he awoke there was a tray of breakfast upon his bedside stand. A small note-card perched upon it simply inscribed with 'Sorry.'
A smile came to his lips. Clyde wasn't the cute, shy, naive boy he had though, but Murphy now knew two things about him. Clyde was as forgiving as he thought, and the boy was an enigma.
Only 519 words long, typed up in an hour or so.
Tell me if I fail, it's my first real fan-fiction, so be blunt, and a bit harsh.
(I kind of had a running idea that Clyde was always picked on for being so feminine. Maybe he was beaten up by a bunch of kids for it? This raises the question of why I want Clyde to have had a tough past.)
Edit: Done at 4 A.M.
Clyde/Murphy
Enigma
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
He awoke with a start, screaming, sweating, crying.
'Oh god' he thought, pain coursing through him. But he felt detached. The only thing he could focus on were his memories. 'Why? Why me?' an internalized question that pierced him, every day, every hour, every second.
Molly was long gone. Dead, with the others he had known. This fact didn't stop the pain every time Murphy saw him... no, every time he saw her. He saw her in the boy's body, in his movement, in his face, his eyes, and even his smile.
The only reason he had wanted Clyde on board was his resemblance to Molly. Now Murphy was growing to resent the boy because of it.
The subject of his resentment was suddenly in the room, worry deep in his eyes.
Murphy's arm immediately rose to wipe the tears from his face. It didn't quite make it.
Clyde concerned face, his expressive eyes brimming with tears. "You're up!" And before Murphy knew what was happening, there were arms around him.
"Ohmygod, I'msosorryIleftyouthereallalone" A gasping breath. "Iwasafraidyouweren'tgoingtowakeupand" Another breath of the same kind. "Stop, Clyde."
"Sorry." He said. He wasn't quite composed, and tears were threatening to spill from his beautiful eyes. "I was jus-" He was abruptly cut off. "I said stop."
"Stop what?" He could feel his arms being loosened from around Murphy. "Murphy?"
"Stop caring. People get hurt. People die. It happens. I'm sorry to shatter your little perceptions that the world is rainbow and candy and unicorn shit, but the world is harsh. It's cold and cruel and hateful. People die for what they believe and people die for how they're born and people die for things they can't change. That's the way it is."
"You think I don't know that? You think because I'm cheery that I believe people live forever, in perfect health and happiness? I've had my share of hardship. My share of discrimination, MORE THAN MY FAIR FUCKING SHARE OF HATE! It's naive of you to assume that because I try to pull a little fucking joy into my life and the lives of others, that I have misconceptions about the world. You may like to live in doom and gloom, but you know what, there's and upside to life, too. You need to grow up and realize that just because you're predisposed to one, it doesn't mean the other doesn't exist."
Murphy wasn't expecting a retaliation of this sort. He was left practically speechless. A "Wait!" stuck in his throat as the immensely confusing Clyde left the room.
'What the hell did Clyde mean?' He pondered as he drifted back to sleep, letting the nightmare reclaim him. Only this time, in Molly's place, was Clyde.
When he awoke there was a tray of breakfast upon his bedside stand. A small note-card perched upon it simply inscribed with 'Sorry.'
A smile came to his lips. Clyde wasn't the cute, shy, naive boy he had though, but Murphy now knew two things about him. Clyde was as forgiving as he thought, and the boy was an enigma.
