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Carry You Home

Summary: Trouble is her only friend, and he’s back again Makes her body older than it really is And she says […]

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Trouble is her only friend, and he’s back again

Makes her body older than it really is

And she says it’s high time she went away

No one’s got much to say in this town

Trouble is the only way is down, down, down

Artemis refused to believe it. He glared fiercely in disbelief at the white-washed walls.

It had to be a mistake.

Muffled voices came into focus and then went back out again. He couldn’t distinguinsh anything they said to him though.

He didn’t want to hear them.

His gaze still fixed on the wall; eyes tracing over faint cracks and dents within them. He felt faint. His pallid face was paler than usual. His lips were chaffed and a sickly grey colour. Dark rings enhanced his sunken cheeks as if he had endured sleepless nights. His puffy red eyes explained why. The usual glint in his eyes had now been replaced by a lacklustre look of despair. His raven black hair was matted and dishevelled.

Tears surfaced to his puffy eyes. Artemis blinked them away. He had shed so many before that he could scarcely feel the bitter sting they were usually accompanied with now. The tears were resilient.

An overwhelming sense of grief shuddered through him. He coughed a sob back. Glistening trails of tears marked his face. The slow trickling drops of sorrow dripped off his nose and chin and fell onto his lap. He choked mouthfuls of air down.

As strong as you were, tender you go

I’m watching you breathing, for the last time

A song for your heart, but when it is quiet,

I know what it means and I’ll carry you home

I’ll carry you home.

He stood, shaking away Butler’s sympathetic hand, and walked, as if condemned, toward the door of the room.

Artemis didn’t look up just yet. He couldn’t; it would hurt too much. And the pain he had already endured was unbearable.

Keeping his eyes glued to the floor, he made his way to the bed. But keeping his sight toward the floor didn’t work as her hand poked out from beneath the sheets. Her white, ashen hand, covered with tubes and pads.

It was too much as he followed the hand to her arm and then to her face. Holly’s face. Holly’s usually strong, fiery face. Now emotionless and lifeless.

Cold.

Lifeless apart from the constant rise and fall of her chest as she breathed in and out. It was hypnotic and it was hopeful. But it was also distressing to see what she had been reduced to.

Distressing that this was what made him hopeful.

Distressing.

Depressing.

There wasn’t much difference.

He stared at the plastic tubes poking from her skin that connected to various things in the room. The tubes looked responsible for why she was in this state. As if, they were the thing that was sucking the life out of her and that he could rescue her by pulling out all the tubes. But Artemis knew that was wishful thinking and all that could help her were those weak, spindly tubes.

One of the tubes was connected to the monitor, registering her heart rate, like aΒ song. The beat was constant and mesmerising, but most importantly another hope. A hope that could just as easily turn to despair if the song hushed.

Artemis didn’t want to think about that though.

He never wanted to think about that.

Never.

If she had wings she would fly away

And another day

God will give her some

Trouble is the only way is down, down, down.

An angel was what she was.

A near dead angel.

A fallen angel who had landed on the rough concrete.

An angel with a bullet ripped through her wings.

An angel that, if her wings had not been clipped before the attack, would have survived.

An angel that fought until the end.

A strong-willed angel with morals and clipped wings…and where did that get her?

As strong as you were, tender you go

I’m watching you breathing for the last time

A song for your heart, but when it is quiet,

I know what it means

And I’ll carry you home,

I’ll carry you home.

A cheap hospital with no relatives to grieve quietly over her body. No fairy friends because they had died in the attack. Just him, the person who had kidnapped her, lied to her, threatened her, deceived her, befriended her, kissed her and then deceived her yet again, and of course his bodyguard, and some doctors who had no more time to care for her than the other patients.

A song for you heart, but when it gets quiet,

I know what it means

And I’ll carry you home,

The sounds of the hospital were the angel’s song and her heartbeat was it’s tempo.

But when the monitor flat-lined and her heart rate had stopped singing, the sounds of the hospital came crashing down around Artemis.

The worst thing was the end.

The end which brought the silence.

The silence he had to bear.

The despair he had to carry.

To carry his friend home.

“Goodbye Holly”, he whispered as he caressed her forehead with a kiss.

I’ll carry you home.

Author’s Note: So that was kinda depressing huh? When I get writer’s block I write angst, weird eh? So, constructive crit is welcome, comments are extremely welcome, as are rates.Β I hope that I get more than 2 comments this time. I realise the title is unoriginal, yet again. R&R…please πŸ˜€

ps. It was James Blunt by the way

Comments on This Post

6 responses to “Carry You Home.” Join in!

  1. James Blunt?

    Sadsadsadsadsadsad. Really sad. I get how you feel, artyrox. Most of my songfics are less successful then my regular ones. Once, my first comment was one four-lettered word- deep.

    It is pretty stereotypical, and it’s great! You do angst for writer’s block? I couldn’t do angst on my best day. I’ve seen this many a time, but I don’t mind. At least you’re writing!

    FCD

  2. Beckett Simpleton October 30th, 2010 at 4:33 pm 2

    go James πŸ™‚ have you heard his ‘triangle’ song,as a kids version of you’re beautiful? tis funny.

    anyhow, wow. that was dipressing. but good. very impressive atmosphere πŸ™‚

  3. That was awesome. And very sad, of course. I loved how you repeated sentences, adding things to them, like the angel part. πŸ™‚
    I do angst all the time, not just with the dreaded disease. You’ve probably noticed. πŸ™‚

  4. @WE: Thanks yeah, although I meant most of my stories, they all have about 3 comments. It’s sad, because I really wanna know what people think.

    @Beckett: Aha yeah, I’ve heard the triangle song it’s so funny πŸ˜€ Thanks for the comment.

    @Hermione: Thankyou, glad you liked it. I have noticed a pile angsty stories you’ve written. πŸ˜€

  5. This was so so sad but very well-written. (Usually angst isn’t my first choice because it’s really sentimental but this drew me in – great job!) Ha ha, you do this well with writer’s block?

  6. wow…deep

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