Gardevoir Girl
^Don't call me that
Since it's two hours into Valentine's Day where I am, I thought I'd post this now. It's just something I threw together in the past two hours - was crying for part of it, so there are bound to be plenty of typos. I hope you like it anyway.
The sun hangs low in the sky. A few children still play in the street, their laughter and yelling almost jarring in the incomplete silence. Shadows chase each other toward darkness as the light slowly fades.
She still sits there, waiting. Almost human in appearance, her long white dress billowing out and falling in soft folds with the light breeze, she waits. Her beautiful green hair falls into her garnet eyes as she gazes hopefully up the road, not moving from her perch upon a brick fence.
The day's life slowly ticks away. Her eyes glisten with unshed tears but she refuses to cry, her eyes still fixed upon the street. Beside her lies a single red rose, wilted from the hours of sunlight with no water. Has she waited here all day? Only she has the answer.
The children's laughter means nothing to her. She watches and waits, trembling with cold but steadfastly holding her post. A single petal, the colour of dried blood, detaches from the rose and flutters feebly in the breeze, falling softly to land at her feet.
The sun sinks and each child slowly returns to his mother's welcoming arms. Still she waits, her shivers more pronounced as the evening changes to night. Her expectant eyes gaze up the road, still hopeful, now slightly pleading.
She waits. The night darkens, spheres of light bursting into life atop street lamps. Now she prays, her thoughts spoken aloud to the night, begging and pleading for her angel.
Please let my angel come. Please send my angel. Please let him come for me.
The night remains silent. No living creature answers her prayers.
The flash of headlights draws her attention away from the place she has watched for hours. A dark car rumbles closer, a single light blinking as it prepares to turn. It passes before her, moving softly into the silent alcove waiting for it. The rumbles cease as she turns her attention back to the road, her gaze now desperate rather than expectant.
A figure steps from the vehicle, closing its door with a thud. Soft footsteps approach her but she does not turn.
"Gardevoir, come inside," the human pleads. "You'll catch cold out here."
I must wait for my angel.
"Don't you remember?"
Yes. But I must wait.
And wait she does, her eyes still fixed on the empty road. A warm hand closes over her own but she pays no attention.
"He won't come, Gardevoir. You know he won't."
And this time she lowers her eyes and tilts her head down.
I know.
She allows the human to help her up and lead her inside, leaving the wilting rose behind. Her entire body aches from sitting still all day, but she refuses to complain. Pulling her hand free of her human's grip, she moves by herself to the room where she sleeps.
Her bed is neatly made, its pillow straight and white blanket perfectly smooth. A book lies upon her pillow, open to the first page. Held to the paper with a simple hairclip is a simple greeting card in the shape of a heart.
I will always love you, the words neatly written inside say. Every Valentine's Day I will be there for you.
She falls upon her bed and draws the book close to her chest. A single tear falls onto the card and suddenly her body is trembling, wracked by violent sobs. Her eyes blink and squeeze shut, melting garnets spilling their despair onto the immaculate sheets.
You promised, she sobs. You promised you would always be here for me.
She knows. But knowing has not stopped her hoping. Every Valentine's Day past, her angel has come.
Why did you die? she sobs feebly. Why... why couldn't I take your place? Why couldn't I be there?
She had hoped that even death could not stop true love.
Why...?
Her tears slow and her shudders cease, her head resting on the damp pillow. Eventually soft breathing replaces the ragged gasps. The book stays in her arms, her heart beating beside the treasured memories.
Outside, a pale hand lifts the wilted rose from its place. Two loving ruby eyes gaze toward the window where she sleeps. And a soft voice whispers into the night.
Death will never stop true love.
She Waits
The sun hangs low in the sky. A few children still play in the street, their laughter and yelling almost jarring in the incomplete silence. Shadows chase each other toward darkness as the light slowly fades.
She still sits there, waiting. Almost human in appearance, her long white dress billowing out and falling in soft folds with the light breeze, she waits. Her beautiful green hair falls into her garnet eyes as she gazes hopefully up the road, not moving from her perch upon a brick fence.
The day's life slowly ticks away. Her eyes glisten with unshed tears but she refuses to cry, her eyes still fixed upon the street. Beside her lies a single red rose, wilted from the hours of sunlight with no water. Has she waited here all day? Only she has the answer.
The children's laughter means nothing to her. She watches and waits, trembling with cold but steadfastly holding her post. A single petal, the colour of dried blood, detaches from the rose and flutters feebly in the breeze, falling softly to land at her feet.
The sun sinks and each child slowly returns to his mother's welcoming arms. Still she waits, her shivers more pronounced as the evening changes to night. Her expectant eyes gaze up the road, still hopeful, now slightly pleading.
She waits. The night darkens, spheres of light bursting into life atop street lamps. Now she prays, her thoughts spoken aloud to the night, begging and pleading for her angel.
Please let my angel come. Please send my angel. Please let him come for me.
The night remains silent. No living creature answers her prayers.
The flash of headlights draws her attention away from the place she has watched for hours. A dark car rumbles closer, a single light blinking as it prepares to turn. It passes before her, moving softly into the silent alcove waiting for it. The rumbles cease as she turns her attention back to the road, her gaze now desperate rather than expectant.
A figure steps from the vehicle, closing its door with a thud. Soft footsteps approach her but she does not turn.
"Gardevoir, come inside," the human pleads. "You'll catch cold out here."
I must wait for my angel.
"Don't you remember?"
Yes. But I must wait.
And wait she does, her eyes still fixed on the empty road. A warm hand closes over her own but she pays no attention.
"He won't come, Gardevoir. You know he won't."
And this time she lowers her eyes and tilts her head down.
I know.
She allows the human to help her up and lead her inside, leaving the wilting rose behind. Her entire body aches from sitting still all day, but she refuses to complain. Pulling her hand free of her human's grip, she moves by herself to the room where she sleeps.
Her bed is neatly made, its pillow straight and white blanket perfectly smooth. A book lies upon her pillow, open to the first page. Held to the paper with a simple hairclip is a simple greeting card in the shape of a heart.
I will always love you, the words neatly written inside say. Every Valentine's Day I will be there for you.
She falls upon her bed and draws the book close to her chest. A single tear falls onto the card and suddenly her body is trembling, wracked by violent sobs. Her eyes blink and squeeze shut, melting garnets spilling their despair onto the immaculate sheets.
You promised, she sobs. You promised you would always be here for me.
She knows. But knowing has not stopped her hoping. Every Valentine's Day past, her angel has come.
Why did you die? she sobs feebly. Why... why couldn't I take your place? Why couldn't I be there?
She had hoped that even death could not stop true love.
Why...?
Her tears slow and her shudders cease, her head resting on the damp pillow. Eventually soft breathing replaces the ragged gasps. The book stays in her arms, her heart beating beside the treasured memories.
Outside, a pale hand lifts the wilted rose from its place. Two loving ruby eyes gaze toward the window where she sleeps. And a soft voice whispers into the night.
Death will never stop true love.
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