vettac: angry (pic#456043)
vettac ([personal profile] vettac) wrote2010-04-09 12:06 pm
Entry tags:

Drabble #4 - Half a Person

Written for the Bebop Drabble Challenge at [info]fayeandspike community.

Half a Person

Call me morbid, call me pale
I've spent six years on your trail
Six full years of my life on your trail

And if you have five seconds to spare
Then I'll tell you the story of my life :

She was left behind, and sour
And she wrote to me, equally dour
She said : "In the days when you were
Hopelessly poor
I just liked you more..."



I've got a new life now and I don't even think about you.


He chases away the image of emerald green with fury and blood on his hands.

His eyes are cold and dangerous; he’s not the same person she knew. He’s only half alive and sinking deeper into darkness.

There’s a chick who’s been itching to get in my pants, and I can get laid anytime I want, so I don’t need to think about you.

Restlessness rages through him and he chases the vision away with mindless fucking, empty sex.

But every night, after the fury has died away, the restlessness returns. There is something missing, and he sees no light in the darkness of his life. No matter how hard he tries, he cannot chase away the vision of emerald green.

He is lost without her.

[identity profile] rampant-chaos8.livejournal.com 2010-04-09 06:13 pm (UTC)(link)
Here's to hoping LJ will let me post a comment...

I really, really love this. So much packed into a small number of words, I give you major kudos. And that last line? Good gosh that was fantastic. Great job! :D

[identity profile] vettac.livejournal.com 2010-04-09 06:44 pm (UTC)(link)
Thanks - I'm really digging to complete all of my drabbles, so I wasn't sure how this would work.

[identity profile] skinnieminnie27.livejournal.com 2010-04-10 02:19 am (UTC)(link)
I liked this.
Sorry for the lack of creative criticism.

[identity profile] bob5fic.livejournal.com 2010-04-10 03:19 pm (UTC)(link)
Lovely. In a perfectly effed up, Spike-like way.

[identity profile] sidewalksg.livejournal.com 2010-04-12 09:33 pm (UTC)(link)
Ah, Spike. Idle hands are the devil's plaything. Now that Spike's virtually eviscerated all the ghosts of his past, he finds himself with no place to go, nothing to do, and no emerald-eyed anchor to keep him from drifting out to sea. Loved it. :)