annundriel (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
annundriel) wrote2003-07-21 11:30 am
annundriel) wrote2003-07-21 11:30 am
Entry tags:
Always writing
Well, here is the piece of Angel fanfiction I wrote. I had the idea just after the Angel season finale and have had subsequent added on thoughts once since then. Today I sat down and wrote this in half-an-hour. It really didn't feel like it took that long. I love it when I can sit and write and it feels like I've only been at it for five minutes and it's really been an hour. I like getting caught up like that. Anyway. I thought this had only taken me fifteen minutes to write but then I looked at the clock and, nope, thirty minutes actually. Guh.
The fic is post-Home. Meaning it's after Angel has had everyone's memory "wiped". One of the facts may be off (how old Connor really is), but it works nice the way it's written. It is currently untitled.
"All the things one has forgotten scream for help in dreams."
-Elias Canetti (1905-1994) Die Provinz der Menschen (1973)
Sometimes at night he dreams. He dreams of things unpleasant, things that cannot possibly be real. There are monsters in his dreams, faceless and familiar. They are the sort of things his parents have told him were imaginary, fake. In sleep, however, they are very real. There have been nights, after jolting awake, that he has lain there and wondered how real they are in his dreams. If he didn't wake up, would the demons consume him?
Of course they wouldn't he thinks, almost believing it. After all, in the dreams he is not himself but some other boy. He always has to remind himself of this upon waking. He is afraid that, one day, he might forget.
He doesn't believe the boy in his dreams is him. He can't. In all of his life he can never remember feeling so angry, so desperate, so alone. His life has been good and it is only really beginning. Although he will admit that there are times, late at night when sleep eludes him, when he feels world-weary. He feels as though eighteen years of living have been crammed into one year of life.
On those nights he becomes truly afraid that the boy in his dreams is him. And then he realizes that he has felt the same consuming emotions as the boy. In the middle of the night he wakes, his sheets drenched in sweat, his heart pounding with adrenaline or fear. He is angry, and it is the boy's anger. He is desperate, and it is the boy's despair. He is alone, and it is the boy's loneliness. He cries, and it is his own confusion. How can these feelings he has never known be so familiar?
In the morning, when the sun has risen and the world is bright, he feels as though he has forgotten something vitally important, that he has left something valuable behind. There is something missing, he thinks. Why else would he dream? But no matter how hard he thinks, he can never remember what he has lost.
The End.
So, there it is. Sort of an . . . ambiguous Connor-fic. Because, you see, I never say it is Connor. Because, of course, it isn't really. Not anymore.
Neesha thinks my note at the end is "deep". I wrote something "deep". Go me!
Oh, and I love feedback. If you read this and have any thoughts, share!
Also, notice how my new icon goes with the post and my favorite line in it. :)
The fic is post-Home. Meaning it's after Angel has had everyone's memory "wiped". One of the facts may be off (how old Connor really is), but it works nice the way it's written. It is currently untitled.
"All the things one has forgotten scream for help in dreams."
-Elias Canetti (1905-1994) Die Provinz der Menschen (1973)
Sometimes at night he dreams. He dreams of things unpleasant, things that cannot possibly be real. There are monsters in his dreams, faceless and familiar. They are the sort of things his parents have told him were imaginary, fake. In sleep, however, they are very real. There have been nights, after jolting awake, that he has lain there and wondered how real they are in his dreams. If he didn't wake up, would the demons consume him?
Of course they wouldn't he thinks, almost believing it. After all, in the dreams he is not himself but some other boy. He always has to remind himself of this upon waking. He is afraid that, one day, he might forget.
He doesn't believe the boy in his dreams is him. He can't. In all of his life he can never remember feeling so angry, so desperate, so alone. His life has been good and it is only really beginning. Although he will admit that there are times, late at night when sleep eludes him, when he feels world-weary. He feels as though eighteen years of living have been crammed into one year of life.
On those nights he becomes truly afraid that the boy in his dreams is him. And then he realizes that he has felt the same consuming emotions as the boy. In the middle of the night he wakes, his sheets drenched in sweat, his heart pounding with adrenaline or fear. He is angry, and it is the boy's anger. He is desperate, and it is the boy's despair. He is alone, and it is the boy's loneliness. He cries, and it is his own confusion. How can these feelings he has never known be so familiar?
In the morning, when the sun has risen and the world is bright, he feels as though he has forgotten something vitally important, that he has left something valuable behind. There is something missing, he thinks. Why else would he dream? But no matter how hard he thinks, he can never remember what he has lost.
The End.
So, there it is. Sort of an . . . ambiguous Connor-fic. Because, you see, I never say it is Connor. Because, of course, it isn't really. Not anymore.
Neesha thinks my note at the end is "deep". I wrote something "deep". Go me!
Oh, and I love feedback. If you read this and have any thoughts, share!
Also, notice how my new icon goes with the post and my favorite line in it. :)
Brilliant! Bloody Brilliant!
Neesh
Ps. It really is a brilliant!!!! "Because, of course, it isn't really. Not anymore."
Re: Brilliant! Bloody Brilliant!
I love e-mail!! Keep 'em coming!
((HUGS))
Mar
PS. Thank you!! I's so freakin' proud of that part. And it wasn't even planned!
Re: Brilliant! Bloody Brilliant!
Hey, anytime you need a critic, I'm here for ya.
Love ya!!!!
Re: Brilliant! Bloody Brilliant!
And I'm glad you're not the kind of person to just stop at "yeah, it's good". You're always willing to sticky note and tell me what you honestly think.
Love ya!!!