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31_days2005-09-29 11:43 pm
swollenfoot.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2005-09-29 11:43 pm
[September 29] [original] Sai remember his death
Title: Sai remembers his death
Day/Theme: September 29 / Thoughts of a dying atheist
Series: original
Character/Pairing: Sai
Rating: PG
(oops. I only know of two atheist characters: Edward Elric and Sagara Sanosuke. *falls back on original chara*)
Sai remembers his death
13:35 092705
Slumped on his back at an inconspicuous corner of an alley, Sai was vaguely aware of the growing darkness. Oddly, he had thought there was still a couple of hours remaining before sunset, and that it was weird how dark it was already. But hey, they’ve been roughing him up for quite some time now. Who knew how much time had really passed?
A part of him knew that he was probably not going to make it this time. He has always been a survivor, and that part of him was panicking like hell now, trying to avert the inexorable. Whatever neurotransmitters were being pumped out to his bloodstream in a frenzy, but it wasn’t going to do anything. His body wasn’t going to get past this crisis, no matter what it did. The rest of his brain was pretty much resigned to that and was rather calm as his life poured out from that gash on his side.
It felt a little warm, nothing really bad. Actually, he was aching and swollen all over anyway, so pain wasn’t registering as well as it usually did. He was fine with that. Dying has never been in his to-do list, but during the rare times he did muse about death and mortality, he did vaguely hope for a not-so-violent death. He supposed that this served as well as going by lung cancer or heart attack. And the good thing was he wasn’t going to get any shots.
Sai haited needles. It’s a weird idiosyncracy for a person very much involved with drugs, if you think about it.
Sai waited for the night to fall patiently, which was uncharacteristic of him. He was usually an action person. Very laid back in demeanor, he talked in a low-key way and focused his energy on actually doing what he wanted done. He suppose he could have prayed. Probably, that was what most dying people did.
Well, he didn’t believe in prayer. Or rather, he didn’t believe there was anybody listening to those prayers. He didn’t believe in the so-called supernatural being.
When his mother died, God went traipsing off with her. It didn’t render such a traumatic shift in his point of view. Sai’s connection with the god he grew up with was tenuous at best. Oh, his mother was devout: taught him everything she knew, explained everything she believed, brought him to mass as often as her schedule permitted, enrolled him to Sunday school when there was budget available. It was just that his hatred for his father had devoured every nuance of the faith, hope, and charity his mother tried to instill in him. Mother’s illusory world of omnipotent, omniscient overbeings was rosy and pretty, but it paled horribly against reality.
There were no gods, there was no fate, there were no coincidences. Things happened. There was always an explanation; often times it was simply impossible for the human intellect to comprehend. Tough luck. He was cool with that.
Sai was concerned about his brother, however. Pol has never had the clarity of thinking, the focus, or the drive Sai had. His little brother had endured years of so-called spiritual distress, of religious crises, that sort of idiotic shit. Sai’s death would probably blow him to pieces. Plus, there’s nothing left for Pol financially speaking. The only relative he’d be left with would be that bastard in Beril city.
Pol hated with a passion, and Sai was never one for anything that brought up so much emotions. The brothers hated their father, yes, but Sai was practical and ruthless. He could march up to the man who provided his Y chromosome and demand thirteen years of child support, but Sai didn’t because, hell, he could work for his living, and he did. Or rather, had. Pol wouldn’t because of pride.
Ah, for Pol, Sai would be willing to believe in a god. Any god that had a nice and creative recruitment catch-phrase. Of course, he’d have to meet that god firsthand. And wasn’t it all conveniently taken care of? He was on his way now.
The darkness had grown enough to encircle his line of vision. He was getting sleepier, now, and almost comfortable. His body didn’t hurt as much. It was a little cold, but he couldn’t quite get a shiver going. Never mind. It was almost done.
--
Sai opened his eyes to the dimly lit alcove of the chapel. Candles burned in the altar, where people paid coins to light them, and they were the sole illumination of the whole place. Beside him, the girl Cherise was slumped against the pew in front of her, knocked out right where she was kneeling.
He probably utilized her energy while remembering all that crap. It didn’t give him much information, like who exactly killed him. Just that he died in an alley near NBNE high school.
And that he hoped there was a god for the sake of his brother.
Well, here he was, dead, and still with no answer.
His gaze fell on the girl Cherise. She looked very uncomfortable contorted like that, but it wouldn’t be a good idea to move her. Not only would it look strange for a sleeping girl to move by herself (no, he didn’t want to propagate false hopes by performing unwitting miracles), he’ll also probably suck out all her life force and kill her on the spot. She'd rouse in a few seconds.
Sai sat there and waited.
Ghosts were patient like that.
~14:11 092705
Day/Theme: September 29 / Thoughts of a dying atheist
Series: original
Character/Pairing: Sai
Rating: PG
(oops. I only know of two atheist characters: Edward Elric and Sagara Sanosuke. *falls back on original chara*)
Sai remembers his death
13:35 092705
Slumped on his back at an inconspicuous corner of an alley, Sai was vaguely aware of the growing darkness. Oddly, he had thought there was still a couple of hours remaining before sunset, and that it was weird how dark it was already. But hey, they’ve been roughing him up for quite some time now. Who knew how much time had really passed?
A part of him knew that he was probably not going to make it this time. He has always been a survivor, and that part of him was panicking like hell now, trying to avert the inexorable. Whatever neurotransmitters were being pumped out to his bloodstream in a frenzy, but it wasn’t going to do anything. His body wasn’t going to get past this crisis, no matter what it did. The rest of his brain was pretty much resigned to that and was rather calm as his life poured out from that gash on his side.
It felt a little warm, nothing really bad. Actually, he was aching and swollen all over anyway, so pain wasn’t registering as well as it usually did. He was fine with that. Dying has never been in his to-do list, but during the rare times he did muse about death and mortality, he did vaguely hope for a not-so-violent death. He supposed that this served as well as going by lung cancer or heart attack. And the good thing was he wasn’t going to get any shots.
Sai haited needles. It’s a weird idiosyncracy for a person very much involved with drugs, if you think about it.
Sai waited for the night to fall patiently, which was uncharacteristic of him. He was usually an action person. Very laid back in demeanor, he talked in a low-key way and focused his energy on actually doing what he wanted done. He suppose he could have prayed. Probably, that was what most dying people did.
Well, he didn’t believe in prayer. Or rather, he didn’t believe there was anybody listening to those prayers. He didn’t believe in the so-called supernatural being.
When his mother died, God went traipsing off with her. It didn’t render such a traumatic shift in his point of view. Sai’s connection with the god he grew up with was tenuous at best. Oh, his mother was devout: taught him everything she knew, explained everything she believed, brought him to mass as often as her schedule permitted, enrolled him to Sunday school when there was budget available. It was just that his hatred for his father had devoured every nuance of the faith, hope, and charity his mother tried to instill in him. Mother’s illusory world of omnipotent, omniscient overbeings was rosy and pretty, but it paled horribly against reality.
There were no gods, there was no fate, there were no coincidences. Things happened. There was always an explanation; often times it was simply impossible for the human intellect to comprehend. Tough luck. He was cool with that.
Sai was concerned about his brother, however. Pol has never had the clarity of thinking, the focus, or the drive Sai had. His little brother had endured years of so-called spiritual distress, of religious crises, that sort of idiotic shit. Sai’s death would probably blow him to pieces. Plus, there’s nothing left for Pol financially speaking. The only relative he’d be left with would be that bastard in Beril city.
Pol hated with a passion, and Sai was never one for anything that brought up so much emotions. The brothers hated their father, yes, but Sai was practical and ruthless. He could march up to the man who provided his Y chromosome and demand thirteen years of child support, but Sai didn’t because, hell, he could work for his living, and he did. Or rather, had. Pol wouldn’t because of pride.
Ah, for Pol, Sai would be willing to believe in a god. Any god that had a nice and creative recruitment catch-phrase. Of course, he’d have to meet that god firsthand. And wasn’t it all conveniently taken care of? He was on his way now.
The darkness had grown enough to encircle his line of vision. He was getting sleepier, now, and almost comfortable. His body didn’t hurt as much. It was a little cold, but he couldn’t quite get a shiver going. Never mind. It was almost done.
--
Sai opened his eyes to the dimly lit alcove of the chapel. Candles burned in the altar, where people paid coins to light them, and they were the sole illumination of the whole place. Beside him, the girl Cherise was slumped against the pew in front of her, knocked out right where she was kneeling.
He probably utilized her energy while remembering all that crap. It didn’t give him much information, like who exactly killed him. Just that he died in an alley near NBNE high school.
And that he hoped there was a god for the sake of his brother.
Well, here he was, dead, and still with no answer.
His gaze fell on the girl Cherise. She looked very uncomfortable contorted like that, but it wouldn’t be a good idea to move her. Not only would it look strange for a sleeping girl to move by herself (no, he didn’t want to propagate false hopes by performing unwitting miracles), he’ll also probably suck out all her life force and kill her on the spot. She'd rouse in a few seconds.
Sai sat there and waited.
Ghosts were patient like that.
~14:11 092705