Lulu, and the memories that refuse to leave her.
Alone - [A Final Fantasy X Drabble] - (Lulu. Angst.)
Red. Blue. Green. Yellow. Purple. White.
So many colours.
The little girl glares furiously at the fantastic array of stars that adorn the endless black sky, opposing every desire within her being to think.
She will not look around her. She will not move until she blurs at the edges and begins to fade away like the stars she's watching now - vanish into the water-wash of flame that heralds dawn, never to return, and she won't have to be sad, she won't hurt anymore, she won't
She will lie here forever until the sunrise comes to claim her.
Shattered glass at her fingers. Warm, hard and sticky, the stench of rusting steel and sorrow. A song that dries the wind, drawing long, pale, moaning notes like souls being torn from their mortal guises, round and round, an eternity in a never-ending spiral of discordant suffering. A cry that twisted her nerves, rubbed them raw and numb.
It's all hazy now, and she grapples at the unexpected relief it brings, but she shuts her eyes and in a breath, it's all clear again, sharp, broken and so very cruel, it clings to her like the poisonous residue of a nightmare and it won't
There is no summoner.
These lights will not fade.
They move ceaselessly, tracing paths across her unwilling consciousness, and with a jolt, she realises that they're not stars.
The beautiful, terrible chorus ends.
And suddenly, she's suffocating in an absence so heavy, she's certain that what's possibly left of Spira will be crushed, and she's afraid, more scared than she's ever been in her entire life, because everything will die, everything will be gone, but she'll live and she'll be the only thing that's left, and it's not fair, it's so unfair, she never did anything wrong but it's all gone and she wants it back...
They're calling for her.
She screams. The sound rips open her throat, sears through the vacant breach in reality, bleeding in a ceaseless flow of love, hate, anger, anguish, horror and ecstatic, hysterical grief. Reverberates and pierces her hearing, damaging her beyond repair.
With all her might, she screams.
They find her, heart cloven in two, numb with frozen pain.
Then suddenly, it all stops, and she wakes up. Warm bed, aching mind, broken memories. The sun rises to claim her, but she's not there. She's crying for real this time, gripping the sheets, moaning with the absolute pain of forcing herself to breathe, because it's
And she's still here.