gmeister101 (gmeister101) wrote in oddfiction,
gmeister101
gmeister101
oddfiction

old, kuroshiro story



Two gray walls. That's what they were. Two immense, impenetrable, impossible walls she always hid behind. Doctor Anaheim stretched forward in his chair and began the usual stare down. He would not lose to a mere child. He'd break down those walls of hers and bring her out. Every patient he had attended for the last ten years had progressed to the point of being admitted back into society as functional citizens. It was his job to make sure they were in working order. It was his job to fix this girl.

She was a small thing, shrinking in the large arms of the red chair that loomed over her. She sat deathly still, only the small movements of the hair that veiled her face showed any signs of life in the little body. Behind the black strands, Doctor Anaheim could just make out the two gray orbs staring back at him. They were flat and weary. What could life possibly have handed the girl to bend her so, he huffed inside himself. He was not a man to show sympathy, even to the smallest of people. It was his job to fix them, not to act as a substitute father.

From the open window in his office a butterfly flew in. It was orange and had specks of blue around the large eye-marks on the fragile wings. It was an odd thing; an odd colorful thing. In an office with gray walls and black book cases, black leather chairs and a dull desk, it stood out. The fragilility fluttered in front of the red chair as if huddling in the red immensity, sheltered from the cold, sterile world it had accidentally stumbled into. The little girl's eyes twitched as she narrowed her vision to focus on the unexpected color fae. A subtle smile carefully bloomed on her pale face as her bright friend danced in the air right in front of her nose. The gentle wings made a tickling sensation as the butterfly flew all around her. The little girl was just about to reach out to it when a sudden movement made her freeze. Doctor Anaheim's hand had flown out, stopping inches from her face. The cold doctor retrieved his arm and composed himself. Easing back into his black leather chair he held his hand out over his dull gray desk. From his open palm a bent and broken orange butterfly landed on the dead surface, as still as the girl who sat a few feet away.

"Now, where were we?" Doctor Anaheim returned to his stretched position, his eyes suddenly very cold and metalic.

"Crushed."

"What's that?" Doctor Anaheim craned forward even more; the whisper had barely fluttered in front of him.

"Crushed."

"What's crushed?" He asked in smug amusement. His eyes gave a quick dart to the orange scar on his antique oak desk. The sacrifice of one insignificant insect for the opportunity to open up his patient was a bargain. He held his breath, not wanting to miss another precious word.

"Your humanity."

His smile was pasted on his face; only his eyes betrayed him. They narrowed in a challenge, then widened in surprise. The girl had jumped from the red chair and slowly walked to the crumpled orange thing. Gently she lifted it up and cradled it in her hands. She looked up at Doctor Anaheim, her eyes no longer walls but fierce flames of accusation. And just as suddenly, the brief surge of emotion was gone, replaced with two steel safes. She turned to walk away but paused.

"Inhuman." She whispered, but the word was deafening in the tiny, colorless, cold room of Doctor Anaheim.

well then, with that, I have finished updating at lj. I'll se ya guys next time I resurface.
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