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14 February 2010 @ 04:23 pm
Fic: Fire and Ice (R-rated)  

Happy Valentine's Day, folks :D This fic has nothing at all to do with this day XD

Title is, in my opinion, a rather obvious reference to the poem by the same name by Robert Frost.

Title: Fire and Ice
Fandom/Original: Original apocalyptic universe
Genre: Gen
Characters: The Artist (unnamed OC)
Prompt: imagination500 #201: There is a apocalyptic disaster happening where your character lives and a "life boat" is being made for survivors. The government is choosing who is "worthy" to be included and who is not. Is your character one of the worthy ones? How do they feel about being included? Conversely, if they aren't, how do they feel about not being included? Perhaps, they're the one that has the make the decision. How does that affect them?
Word Count: 571
Rating: R due to certain themes
Warnings: Assisted suicide
a/n: I was exhausted when I wrote this and I proof-read a zillion times, but there might still be a couple of mistakes I didn't catch. Please let me know if you spot them.

Fire and Ice
by C.R.M. Nilsson


I’ve always felt that there has been a certain poeticism to committing suicide with pain killers. It’s like you expect them to take away all the pain. Not only the physical, but the one in your soul and the one in your heart. The invisible scarring that nobody ever sees, but that is always visible in the way we act. What shapes us into who we are and creates our hang ups.
 
I never expected to be force-fed painkillers, enough to make me overdose. The government can’t bring all of us with them on whatever mode of transportation they have designed to save a selected few from the apocalypse. But they won’t leave any of us behind. That’s why men with white masks hiding their faces are walking among us, making sure that we swallow and don’t vomit it all up. I did, half an hour ago. They just forced down more of the pills down my throat together with a motion-sickness pill when they discovered that I had. There’s no getting out of this.
 
I’m not surprised that I was not selected to be saved. I have a history of being slightly unbalanced. Deranged, even. Not in the range of the normal, certainly. I’m also homosexual. So should the world as we know it end right here and now, I’m not any good to them. I cannot be used as a breeding machine. But they won’t leave me behind for the shadows to swallow whole. In a way I’m grateful. I’ve seen people swallowed by the shadows. It’s not pretty. And they scream and scream and scream like they’re having their soul torn out. It looks like acid is eating away at them. Sounds like it is what it feels like, too.
 
I’m grateful that the shadows won’t take me. But I’m also resentful. Why am I chosen to die? Because I have a history of holing up in my studio, not coming out for days? Because I sometimes go for days without eating, until I collapse and my assistant or some errant model brings me to the hospital? Because I am a homosexual artist who cannot be convinced to breed with someone of the opposite sex even though it would mean saving myself and mankind?
 
I’m bitter and angry. But it’s hard to keep my eyes open. I do struggle to keep them open, you must understand. There’s an innate curiosity in me that makes me unable to close my eyes. I want to see how the world ends. Will it go out in a blaze or will it just slowly fade away? Will the world end in fire, or will it end in ice? There’s something in me that begs to find out. But it’s so hard to keep my eyes open.
 
Suddenly there’s a flurry of activity. Army boots are stomping around in panic. One stomps down on my hand. I hear the bones crushing. But there’s only a dull sensation. No pain, not anything. Just a sensation of something breaking off and never being put together again. I’m sinking. The waves are pulling me under. My eyes are closing against my will.
 
I used to be an artist. Slightly manic, slightly brilliant. I loved fiercely with all my heart, but my love was never fully accepted by the mass. And I died as I had lived: alone.
 
And I never got to see how it ended.

 
 
Current Mood: tiredtired
Current Music: Crossfade - Drown You Out
 
 
 
38 on February 14th, 2010 05:28 pm (UTC)
I really really liked this. Very well written!
C-chan: kittenkurainokoori on February 20th, 2010 08:37 pm (UTC)
Thank you :)
simsbabii12simsbabii12 on February 14th, 2010 05:58 pm (UTC)
Wow. Its a new concept of the apocalyptic world. I like it better than your typical apocalyptic tale.
C-chankurainokoori on February 20th, 2010 08:38 pm (UTC)
I'm glad you liked it :) Thanks for reading! ^^
Katedefiantlygreen on February 14th, 2010 08:54 pm (UTC)
Will the world end in fire, or will it end in ice? Robert Frost FTW. :)

Very well done. Simple, yet poignant. And I love the way you ended it.
C-chankurainokoori on February 20th, 2010 08:39 pm (UTC)
That's one of my favourite poems :)

I'm glad you enjoyed it :) Thank you for reading!