+ CLOCKS +
A story from Wonderland Overdrive
planning & presented by MadHatter - all rights reserved
| back |

~ Thanks to Sarah who betaread this :) 

«Lights go out and I can't be saved
Tides that I tried to swim against
You've put me down upon my knees
Oh I beg, I beg and plead (singing)
Come out of things unsaid, shoot an apple of my head (and a)
Trouble that can't be named, tigers waiting to be tamed (singing) 
You are, you are...
Confusion never stops, closing walls and ticking clocks (gonna)
Come back and take you home, I could not stop, that you now know (singing)
Come out upon my seas, curse missed opportunities (am I)
A part of the cure, or am I part of the disease (singing)
You are 
And nothing else compares
Oh no nothing else compares
And nothing else compares
You are 
Home, home, where I wanted to go...»
Coldplay, "Clocks"


Once, all was simple and pure. Things born in the depths of a human mind - dreams and hopes and desires. A puppet for the eyes of the God, in a world which was the reflection of another, lost in the heart of a woman.
I am the ruler, I'll make the rules.
"No time," she said, "No space," her voice was quiet, "No pain." before she rested in silence. Then, as her gaze rose and the warm, red light of the sky wrapped her up, she faded into the air. Blood for blood.
She should have understood that dreams don't forgive anyone.

Lost in a white room, the light from the window paints golden lines on the walls. Everything is so quiet. There's nothing but a white bed in the corner, and a little white chair close to the window. White and nothing else. White like in limbo. White for the heart of a whole world, hidden in a little room. She gave birth to them, little dolls of flesh and blood, because she loved them the most and she lost them all at once. She paid for them with a piece of her heart, one piece for each, before she lay here, in silence. Because they love her but not the most. Because they're alive and pure like little gods.
Because they're not human. And that was the fourth rule.

Lost in a world made up of desires, can a woman lie to herself?
I don't want to make it happen, she thought. I don't want to force what should be free… it would be a lie. She closes her eyes once again to keep the world outside her eyelids. Just a silent, endless limbo, a little darker than the one that surrounds her. She could lose her mind in it, flowingly…
Gods can't die, but they can be forgotten. It would be so simple…

But you can hear the sound of that voice, near you, and see the brightness of those eyes, firmly fixed into yours. You’ve lost all your heart piece by piece and a new one has come back to you, so full of love that you're afraid of it.
He doesn’t want to forget you. He doesn’t want to leave you alone. He - and you're scared of that too - simply needs you.
But they don't depend on me! you try to say, closing your eyes a little more. They live! They're not my children anymore…
All but one.

The door opens with a muffled sound. Nobody should be able to open it, but you can't keep your heart away from you, can you? He steps into the room, quietly, afraid of bothering you. You can feel the look of those eyes on your skin, like electricity.
He stops a few steps from your bed without speaking. In the silence of the room you can hear him breathe, softly, parting the air like a heartbeat. You know the look on his face… you can feel it.
He takes a deep breath, then, after a short pause, you hear him say, "Mommy?" in a doubtful tone. And you really, really wish you were dead. Because it hurts. Because you know that love hurts the most.
You don't reply. Maybe he'll turn and go away. Just hoping in vain.
He takes another couple of steps. Go away please… go away from me! But you know, and so well… he won't do it. "Mommy? Are you ok?" he asks again, looking at you. His voice is trembling. And something right in your chest is going to break. Anything but this, please. Please… I don't want to make him cry… I couldn’t stand it. I don't want to make him suffer…
"Go away." You say and your voice is heartless. "I don't need you."
You don't rise and you don't turn your head to him. Just your voice, cold.
No reply. Breaths again, just a little quicker. No steps. He's standing in the center of the room, near you, just waiting.

You have to choose. ‘Cause the free will counts anything in a world which is part of you. You can't be their God and expect their lives to be separate from yours.
How much do my wishes coincide with yours?
…and, faded in the echo of the reply…
How much must I love you?

He waits for a word from your mouth, whether it’s good or bad. You're trapped. And you know that once the decision is made, there will be no way to turn back and change things. What's best for you? What's best for him?
You rise on your arms, until you’re sitting. Your back is still turned to him. Your mouth doesn't want to open. Only one word, just that. One word to break everything.
You're scared. Then you hear a muffled sound behind you… he's trying to be as quiet as possible, but he's only a child, despite of all appearances… he’s a child, and he's crying.
Only one word.
"Joel?" you say, turning towards him, and you open your arms. He moves a couple of unsteady steps before he dashes to bury himself in your hug. He's warm… and so little. His back is shaking, and you can feel every one of those sobs like a stab to your heart. You tighten the hug, burying your face in his hair… his red hair, like honey, like the sun. You know every single inch of that body, every single part…
Your precious child. You love him more than everything else. Everything. Even more than you love yourself.
Gently, you raise your head and place a kiss on his forehead, still cuddling him. "Shhht," you say, but he doesn’t stop crying. You put your hands on his cheeks and look in his amber eyes… they're just so beautiful, so pure. He's the purest thing in the world… so why should you dirty him?
Because he's just a puppet…
He isn't.
…that feels the emotions you allow him to feel. Nothing else…
He doesn't!
“Remember,” said that voice, “once you do it, you can't go back. It's farewell, not a goodbye.” What's better? To live a fake life or to live a painful life?

You feel moisture under your fingertips. This is not a lie.

You close your eyes once more and place another kiss on his warm cheek. This is for the mother who won't come back. Then you open your eyes and look at him again. His eyes are still filled with tears but he’s trying to curl his lips into a little, uncertain smile.
 I'm scared… so scared…
You smile too. But yours is bitter.
…of how much I love you.
You press your lips on his, kissing him gently. You hug him tighter as your tongue slips past his lips and his body stifles a start. Once you do it…
You can feel his heart beat faster under his clothes… from his chest to yours. He's alive… not a puppet… not a doll…
A breath. He's laying on the bed, under your body. He's looking at you, with those bright eyes… what's behind them? Fear? Doubt? Or just a longing without a name? You can see him bite his lips, trying not to moan. He looks so defenceless now, so little…
You skim over the smooth skin of his neck, kissing him forcefully. He just moans, moving his body against yours, arching his back…

You follow the line of his collarbone, down to his chest. His body is just so perfect… that soft, white skin, the faint texture of his muscles… your perfect child. You bury your head in his chest, hugging him tightly. Not a man… just the faultless child of a God.

But there's no such thing as perfection in real life. Humanity can't be perfect. You raise your head, looking him in his amber, pure, eerie eyes. He moves his lips to word "Mother," nothing else.
No humanity. No pain. Are you sure you want to make him suffer… just for love?
Once you do it, you can't go back.
You kiss his lips again and this is your reply.

| back |