[replica model] • LUKE FON FABRE (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
fabrecation) wrote2012-07-04 03:50 pm
fabrecation) wrote2012-07-04 03:50 pm
026 [written]
[It's so bad now that Luke feels like he can barely get out of bed except for necessary needs. It's... honestly kind of strange. Sure, he's scared, and sure, he hates having to lay here and just wait for it to happen, despite writing and drawing to pass the time. But he isn't quite as terrified as he was just a month ago.
It's like he's accepted that this is happening in a quiet, somber sort of way.
There's pain every day, he's tired every day, he's thin and pale and looks as if he's just wasting away, as if he's all that's left after tiny pieces of himself slowly just... faded away. Even his hair seemed not quite as full as it ought to be.
He hated it, yes. But it's happening. And he's close to fading away completely, he knows that. Maybe that's why he's mostly okay with this. It can finally be over.
He'd only flipped through the journal to keep track of everyone. Now, though, he can't help being morbidly curious, in a way. So, making sure that he himself is out of sight, he writes slowly to the masses.]
If someone told you that you didn't have much longer to live, what would you do about it? What would you do with the last days of your life?
[It's a question that could be asked even by a curious healthy person, something to get people to think. He can think of it that way, and get answers that he might just need because of it.]
It's like he's accepted that this is happening in a quiet, somber sort of way.
There's pain every day, he's tired every day, he's thin and pale and looks as if he's just wasting away, as if he's all that's left after tiny pieces of himself slowly just... faded away. Even his hair seemed not quite as full as it ought to be.
He hated it, yes. But it's happening. And he's close to fading away completely, he knows that. Maybe that's why he's mostly okay with this. It can finally be over.
He'd only flipped through the journal to keep track of everyone. Now, though, he can't help being morbidly curious, in a way. So, making sure that he himself is out of sight, he writes slowly to the masses.]
If someone told you that you didn't have much longer to live, what would you do about it? What would you do with the last days of your life?
[It's a question that could be asked even by a curious healthy person, something to get people to think. He can think of it that way, and get answers that he might just need because of it.]
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Would you tell them, or do you think it'd make them too sad?
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You have to weigh between what would make them sad, and what would make them angry.
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I'm not sure which one I'd do, if that happened to me. It's hard to think about...
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This is so obvious it's painful. It's time to find out exactly what's happening.]
There must be a reason you're asking, Luke-kun.
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[Just the fact that it's filtered means that he's discovered. The "Huh?" is a little shaky as a result, and it takes him a minute or two to write anything else.]
I was just asking, that's all...
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Something put it on your mind.
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WellYeah, maybe. I was just [And then there's a frustrated scribble of a word. Dammit, he didn't want people to pick up on this...]
thinking.
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You aren't alone in that.
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... Who am I kidding?
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Can you tell me what's wrong?
[he's not going to force Luke if he still doesn't want to.]
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[It's only because he's pressing down with frustration. He hates having to say it to people, he hates... he hates...]
What I asked about is happening to me right now. [It's better than writing "I'm dying". Easier.]
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... I'm sick. I've been sick for a while. And I just... kept getting worse and worse. There wasn't any cure or anything, just... waiting it out.
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Can I tell you a story, Luke?
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A story? Sure, go ahead.
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Once there was a green forest where alligators and other animals lived. But one alligator was different from the others. He was born with pink skin. The other alligators wouldn't talk to him, and he couldn't blend in with the rest of the forest. It was hard to find food and he had no friends.
One day, the alligator met a bird. This bird was also different because it didn't know how to fly. The bird and the alligator became best friends. The alligator let the bird sleep in his mouth so it would be safe from the other predators in the forest.
But the alligator still couldn't catch food of his own. He got weaker and weaker. One day he was so hungry, he swallowed his friend in his sleep. The alligator was horrified and tried everything to save him, but the bird was already dead.
[There's a pause in the writing while he rests his hand, so Luke has room to interject.]
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That's horrible! His friend was... What did he do?
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[There's a pause.] That's the end of the story. A good friend of mine wrote it before he passed away.
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He wraps the blanket tighter around himself before he reaches over to write again.]
That's a really good story. But... it's really sad.
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[There's another pause while Luke looks down at the covers again, and when he writes again, the letters sway downward, as if he's not looking at the journal nor looking at what he writes.]
Your friend is really something else. Maybe I should
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