Post by milo on Sept 13, 2009 0:32:54 GMT -5
Broken
Milo sighed, laying there under the starlit sky that loomed over his tree house. The roof was a nice place for him to escape even the walls of the wooden structure he and his parents had built. It was his special secret retreat only they knew of. It was his little den, his home away from home. The blue child didn't have much to be too happy and go-lucky about these days, although he tried. There was a deep, inner turmoil he was faced with. Evens of the past gave him nightmares. Words still stung. Worse of all, the truth hurt.
"What does it feel like?... tell me... To know you shall never quite... grow up.. To known none will ever understand you. You'll be stuck like that, a mere child, lacking understanding.. desiring things and without the knowledge of why... You're so... broken. As those around you grow, leave and die... you'll remain as you are, ever flawed and deformed... a simple... monstrosity constructed of the parts of others. Really.. what does it feel like to know you are not even a true being, but merely a construct of others, a creation? And one that is so... disfigured... I've set out to make wonderful enhancements, making others so much better, so much more... real. You're just a broken mass of pieces taken from others."
Such words... They stung.. and the more Milo understood them, the more he wished he didn't. Words like so... were never repeated to his parents.. his family... Milo kept them to himself. Although that was the case, ever since he had returned from that skirmish of his first mission, Milo was... changed. The more people left him, the more truth there were to those words.... the more he changed and the colder he grew.
Laying there with a now full grown Bandit at his side, the husky was his near-constant companion. While Milo once was a giant to the tiny pup, the dog now made him feel quite... small. After all, instead of carrying the puppy in his shirt, Milo could ride on the dog's back. The child was only able to picture the nightmare, the pain of that cold dark place... That metal floor with its metal walls...
He didn't know what was worse, the fact he was a creation.. or the fact he was an unwanted broken creation. Nevermind the fact that he couldn't age like others, think like others, or even speak like them... Over all, he did indeed feel like quite a... broken monstrosity... and yet... The Doctor had said he could fix him... he made the boy.. and could fix him...
Milo often pondered going back.. going.. and being fixed, completed... and thus being normal. After all, it was clear nobody would wait for him to grow up.. or ever understand his frustrations.. or ever.. accept him as he was.. and accept that he needed someone he could truly count on. Then again.. maybe he wasn't a pack animal... but a lone wolf instead. A broken lone wolf.
Milo sighed, laying there under the starlit sky that loomed over his tree house. The roof was a nice place for him to escape even the walls of the wooden structure he and his parents had built. It was his special secret retreat only they knew of. It was his little den, his home away from home. The blue child didn't have much to be too happy and go-lucky about these days, although he tried. There was a deep, inner turmoil he was faced with. Evens of the past gave him nightmares. Words still stung. Worse of all, the truth hurt.
"What does it feel like?... tell me... To know you shall never quite... grow up.. To known none will ever understand you. You'll be stuck like that, a mere child, lacking understanding.. desiring things and without the knowledge of why... You're so... broken. As those around you grow, leave and die... you'll remain as you are, ever flawed and deformed... a simple... monstrosity constructed of the parts of others. Really.. what does it feel like to know you are not even a true being, but merely a construct of others, a creation? And one that is so... disfigured... I've set out to make wonderful enhancements, making others so much better, so much more... real. You're just a broken mass of pieces taken from others."
Such words... They stung.. and the more Milo understood them, the more he wished he didn't. Words like so... were never repeated to his parents.. his family... Milo kept them to himself. Although that was the case, ever since he had returned from that skirmish of his first mission, Milo was... changed. The more people left him, the more truth there were to those words.... the more he changed and the colder he grew.
Laying there with a now full grown Bandit at his side, the husky was his near-constant companion. While Milo once was a giant to the tiny pup, the dog now made him feel quite... small. After all, instead of carrying the puppy in his shirt, Milo could ride on the dog's back. The child was only able to picture the nightmare, the pain of that cold dark place... That metal floor with its metal walls...
He didn't know what was worse, the fact he was a creation.. or the fact he was an unwanted broken creation. Nevermind the fact that he couldn't age like others, think like others, or even speak like them... Over all, he did indeed feel like quite a... broken monstrosity... and yet... The Doctor had said he could fix him... he made the boy.. and could fix him...
Milo often pondered going back.. going.. and being fixed, completed... and thus being normal. After all, it was clear nobody would wait for him to grow up.. or ever understand his frustrations.. or ever.. accept him as he was.. and accept that he needed someone he could truly count on. Then again.. maybe he wasn't a pack animal... but a lone wolf instead. A broken lone wolf.