Rina Garet (rina_garet) wrote in weisscrack,
Rina Garet
rina_garet
weisscrack

Untitled fic thingy.

Youji POV (what else? O_o)

Rated G, or PG. ^_^ Warning for weird car metaphors.

He'd been on this road for years.

Without even the luxury of a smooth ride, while chunks of pavement cracked his windshield, while bumps and potholes jarred him, he drove on. He looked for signs, maps, anything that might guide him along at a better pace, but none ever showed themselves.

At least, not until he had already gone past, and it was too late.



He could always look back, and see everything he had somehow missed. No entrance warnings and long gone directions to places long past flickered in his rear view, and bright blaring colors and bold black letters barred his way at every turn from the main road.

There was absolutely no turning back.

It was beginning to feel like a one way street, and he was definitely driving the wrong way. Sure, he managed to swerve out of the way of oncoming traffic enough to keep moving, but landed in a gutter or a ditch just as often, and dealt with the setbacks the best way he knew how.

He couldn’t drive forever. His road, his ride... it had to run out somewhere.

His luck had run out long ago.

And so, like all things, it did come to an end, stalling dead on a crowded freeway, leaving him stranded. Leaving him unable to risk leaving the vehicle behind at last, for fear of being run down by a car passing nearby.

So, he stayed in the empty, broken down car that could no longer even serve its one purpose, curled up in the back seat, waiting desperately for someone to come along and help.

Youji loved that analogy. That euphemism for his entire broken existence. His entire life. Somehow turning things into objects made it easier to swallow, made the facts easier to ignore, to deny, to refuse.

It made it so much easier to stay curled up in that back seat, deluding himself that the car was somehow still moving, heading toward some wonderful, yet unknown destination, and that he would arrive any moment, and things would be fine again.

Beautiful people and beautiful places would await, as long as he kept on. As long as he kept going. Something better was ahead, not this dark, terrible mess that his life had become, and an even darker, more terrible future that he was spiraling inevitably toward.
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