From: Harper Date: Fri, 14 May 1999 23:53:40 -0000 Subject: NEW: Light Breaks Where No Sun Shines (1/1) Title: Light Breaks Where No Sun Shines (1/1) Author: Eve Harper Archive: Yes! Yes! Yes! Disclaimer: *sob!* I want Mulder but he's not mine, like all the other X-Files characters, he belongs to the surfer genius of Chris Carter. Category: Vignette, Angst Rating: G Key Words: None. Spoilers: Up to the movie--"Fight the Future" Summary: A 1st-person symbolic take on Mulder's life. Author's note: I wrote this a few hours ago in a burst of inspiration. I hope it makes some sense--please tell me whether it did or not. ^_^ And if anyone else did something uncannily similar, sorry. To me, this is original. Song lyrics printed without permission. Feedback: See "Archive" and triple it. :) *** You don't even know me, You say that I'm not living right, You don't understand me So why do you judge my life? ~Armand Van Helden "You Don't Know Me" *** For most of my life, I've felt as though I was trapped in jail cell with a barred window being my only access to the light outside. And just outside, there was always a festival full of dance, laughter, blue skies and colour. When I was young, I was outside, naive and ignorant of the jail building only metres from me. Then, when Samantha vanished, the people in the festival wouldn't believe my explanation for it and threw me into the jail. I hated it, I kept on hating it. I realised back then that not everything was bright as strips of light threw themselves across the rough floor in desperation to bring optimism to the claustrophobic, rat infested cell. It was hard trying to not to listen to the bubbling conversation and music emanating from outside. Once, I enjoyed the beat of the drums, the brash call of the trumpets mixed in with cheering voices, attempts at singing, glasses clinking together and the flashing of bright lights. After my imprisonment, the music seared a headache into my brain, the singing seemed to mock me, the clinking noise was just a distraction from my self-pity and the flashes reminded me of what I was missing when I tried to block out the sounds. The slitted light always fell far from the dark corner I often stood in, grimacing as the rats ran around me, sometimes brushing against my bare feet, sometimes scratching them. I kicked the rats away every time but they kept coming back. Sometimes, I can still hear the echoes of their scuttling but my toughened skin can barely feel them anymore. I wasn't quiet, I'm still not. Screaming out of the window for help, for my sister, for someone to believe me, I became disillusioned when no-one answered my calls. My mother sat far away from the partying crowds and I could only see her clearly when I squinted my eyes and cricked my neck. She looked so cold and quiet, smoke from an unseen fire the only thing warming her. My father, he wouldn't even look at me, he thought I was to blame for Samantha's disappearance. I knew this because he was the one who turned the key and locked me in my cell. The worst part was that no-one else seemed to realise that inside it was dark and dank, with rats scurrying and grey shadows draped across the walls. No-one would believe me, saw only my ageing face and desperate calls but not the darkness behind me. They didn't seem to notice the brick walls and barred window keeping me from joining them. So, instead, all they did was turn up the music and laugh louder, joking about me while refusing to look the butt of their jokes in the eye. The older I got, the thicker the walls around me seemed to get. I began to forget the light, refusing to look at the window as the sight of it dug holes in my heart. Only the thought of my sister kept me calling out with hope, kept me from sitting down and never getting up again. One day, I heard a voice calling from the window. Eager, I ran to the window and saw a woman of hard beauty staring back at me. She said she could see the rats and the darkness. Just as the hope of my freedom tentatively grew around the window and pulled the bars apart, she laughed at me and ripped the hope away. The bars came back and she left. Then someone coughed behind me and I turned round to see three men standing inside the building, though outside my cell. They could see the rats and the darkness but they didn't laugh, they sympathised with me. For the first time in years I could laugh and see that I wasn't the only one in not in the festival. Yet, they stood under a light that didn't shine over me. A woman joined them and spoke to me but she left all too soon. She didn't even try that hard to free me but I was grateful all the same just to have someone to talk to. Not long after, another woman called from the window but I refused to turn around and face her. How could I trust someone who came from the festival? But so soon, her smooth voice gained my trust and I circled around, striding towards the window to meet her. At first, she wouldn't believe in the shadows and the rodents but then I showed her and soon she believed that there was more than blue skies and festivals. She wanted to help me get out of here and moved closer to pull on the bars. Eventually, the musty air drifted out of my window and she started to cough. Someone I couldn't see led her away as she choked on the dust. Soon, I couldn't see her but refused to even think that she wouldn't come back. Time went on, though. Pits were dug deeper into my heart as people laughed harder at me and blocked some of the leftover light from the window. I began to sit down in the dark corner as I knew she'd taken the last of my hope with her and might never return. Before I could hit the floor, her voice dragged me up and towards her. She wasn't at the window but in the cell with me. Happier than I thought I could ever be, we both decided to tug at the window's bars from the inside, they started to give way after a while. Even though we both saw a family member fade away outside, we kept going, kept pulling. It was then I realised just how strong she was but suddenly she started to fade away to my disbelief. I needed her too much, she helped me see the light outside again and I didn't want to lose that, lose her. I tried everything I could to stop her fading. Just as she was about to disappear completely, we found a way to stop it and she came back to me, smiling wearily. But it was the most beautiful smile I'd ever seen and the holes in my heart began to be filled with memories of her. With that smile, a bar gave way and I found that I could stick my arm out and feel the warm breeze skirting across my callused hands. I could breathe the fresh air for once. Just as another couple of bars weakened and gave way, a stupid buzzing bee alerted the prison guard and my escape, to this day, remains just out of reach. But as long as I can take deep breaths and not cough in the dust, as long as I can touch passerbys' shoulders and get them to look at me for a change, as long as I can catch glimpses of her smiles, I know that I can wait a little longer for utter freedom. *** Finished & started: 14 May 1999. Go on. Give me feedback. You know you want to. *** Scully: Nonsensical repetitive behaviour is a common trait of mental illness. Mulder: You trying to tell me something?