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Fic: From My Window, Scott's POV (PG)

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  • |-- Aeolus --|
    From My Window Fiction: From My Window Author: Aeolus (aeoluswriting@yahoo.com) Characters: Scott Summers POV Website: http://aeolus.popullus.net/ Raiting: PG
    Message 1 of 1 , Nov 9, 2003
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      From My Window
      Fiction: From My Window
      Author: Aeolus (aeoluswriting@...)
      Characters: Scott Summers' POV
      Website: http://aeolus.popullus.net/
      Raiting: PG
      Disclamier: I do not own Scott Summers or any other characters mentioned.
      Summary: Scott deals with the death of Jean Grey in a solemn way. Just a simple story of loss and regret.

      From My Window

      I sit at my window, watching life pass me by. Wondered, I often did, about the days that seemed to wrap around my empty life. It seemed as if no time had passed, but minutes mingled with hours, hours merged with days, and eventually the days had become an entire month. Where had it all gone? Where had I gone?

      I look upon the flowing green grass as if I were watching waves drift from the evening tide. The wind and grass dance in unrehearsed pirouettes of movement. The younger children tried so desperately, so na�vely to catch the mischievous wind spirits that eluded them so. Their hands would grasped around empty air, but their faces were so confident, so sure that they had trapped the invisible pixies.

      How I envied them and pitied them all at the same time. To be so ignorant of a harsh world was bliss in my eyes. Though, to be trapped in the mind of a child seemed torture to me. They had such a simple life as of now. However, that precious time seemed to be fleeting. And the lives these young children will eventually lead, one of harsh criticism and unjustly prejudice, this time must be valued and preserved for as long as possible.

      My life, as of now, was filled with emptiness and void.

      They tell me I�m needed. I know that and forever will know I�m needed. I stand strong for them, stand stoic for them. They say they see me in pain, but I do not feel it. I feel nothing. Only the loss, only the emptiness. And yet, how can one feel oblivion? How can one feel nothing when it is just that�nothing.

      I�m so confused. So alone.

      They try to be there for me. But they can�t. Why? I won�t let them. I need to be alone, need to stand strong for myself.

      That�s a lie.

      I don�t want them to be there for me. I don�t deserve their love and concern�

      I don�t deserve them because I failed her. I said when I was on a bent-knee; hands embraced with her angelically soft ones, that I would be there for her, forever. That as long as a breath remained in my body and my heart would beat with her love, that I would protect her.

      The professor told me that she didn�t want me too. She didn�t need me too. That she needed to do this on her own. But I needed to protect her. I wanted to protect her. I had too. I promised her. I failed her�

      That is why I do not deserve my friends� love and concern. Because the day I promise to protect them, I won�t be there for them. How can one truly promise something, when you cannot truly be sure you can fulfill that promise? For a promise is a commitment bound in loyalty and love and blood. My word wasn�t as good as I told her it would be.

      I just remain in the lonely darkness, a willful prisoner of our�my room. Tokens of our past filled with embarrassing, loving, and cherished moments surround�my�room. I cannot see them. They had been blanketed in the welcomed darkness of my own summons. I do not want to remember those things, those moments. I want to remember her. Though, all I seem to remember is how much I failed. As a leader and lover�

      I sit at my window, passing the time by watching others live their lives. Something I seem to have lost the ability to do. All I can do anymore is look onto a world I no longer feel apart of. A world that I no longer feel welcomed too.

      And no matter how hard I try, no matter how many people pass by my gaze�all I can see is the reflection of an empty man staring back at me from my window.
      --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
      Author's Notes: As an author, one should explore almost every form of writing the world has to offer. I, by nature, am an episodic writer who enjoys giving life and death plots with character interaction and growth. I love danger and romance and all the wonderful, mammoth stories humanity can give.

      Though, more isn't always better. Sometimes, it's just--more. So, I thought I would do my first, first point of view story. I had a lot of fun with it. I'm not a fan of first person, they all have their time and place. As this one does.


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