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Silent plea of the forgotten by sassy_sango26

prolong - Haunting past

. -hi ya! this is basically my first story and I would appreciate it if you told me anyway that I could repair this story for the enojyment of my readers, thank you!!!!

~Silent plea of the forgotton~

by: Sassy_sango26

She sat upon the windowsill, her head held high and her skin a glow in the pale moonlight that squeezed in through little creaks and gapes in the drapery.

Like her, the room was old and faded; as time had passed and left ruins as in its place as prove of existence to those of the new.

It seemed to be as if someone had taken a picture from a history book of a feudal era castle's royal room, and pulled it from the literature into the crushing reality of life. For the room contained many timeless wonders left to times careless touch.

It carried an air of magic that flowed seemingly unconsciously through it, and touched every occupant with only a caress that left one yearning for more. Yet also pulling back in fright of such power that oozed from it unknowingly.

But even with all the lasting wonders of the past, a sole object appeared to differ greatly in this timeless room.

In this sanctuary of sorts, was what appeared to be an old antiqued bed with a nice thick quilt that's only show of disuse, was the amount of dust that laid undisturbed upon the elegant lunar patterns, scattered around it's aged form, already faded with times touch into an unknown language of sort.

And Amidst the dust that had gathered upon the unused bed, sat a perfectly intact flower that seemed completely undisturbed, freshly picked, and fully bloomed, upon the enormous bed. Contrasting perfectly with its white coloring to the dark bed spread.

That in itself an odd occurrences for a room that hadn't seen the light of day for more or less than a hundred years or so, with the oddities only growing as a pure glow was leaking like air from the white petal flower.

It's glow felt as if a lover had come and slid its hand gently over your heart, as if to caress it.

The illumination reached outward for something, or perhaps, someone, brightening the dreary room with its luminescent partner in the sky, like searching hands, but as soon as the glow of the flower reached the unmoving, pale occupant upon the chilled window sill, it slowly receded back into the flower, as if beckoning her to pick it up from it's resting place and allow it the freedom it so longed for.

But even if she had wanted to, she couldn't release the flower of its imprisonment.

Many times before, she had tried unsuccessful to pick the flower from it's resting place and allow it to be freed into the waiting wind outside her window sill, but just as her hand would dip for the flower, her digits would sink through the outer barriers of it as though it had never been there, and then her hand would continue through the comforter by an inch or so.

And so, the pattern was useless to continue and she knew this. Her hope for salvation had long since passed, and the inevitable death sentence that hung over her slender head drew every nearer every passing of the incomplete crescent.

There had once been a time when she had hoped to be found and saved from the hell she lived everyday, but all hope was demolished after the passing of the 300th year. And so, she sat every moonlight night upon the same windowsill, in the same room, awaiting the painful extraction of pieces from her shrinking soul, to be captured and destroyed.

As the night continued on, with the flower aglow in the lonely room and night's nearing descent into mother earth's open embrace, time crawled ever closer to the complete extermination of her encased soul as a little piece faded into the abyss of nothingness, like a thousand times before, leaving behind a feeling of pain and an incomplete hollowness.

Once more a night had passed, and still she was stuck, alone, with even fewer rays of hope of ever being freed from this prison of hers. Leaving behind a chill in her azul eyes, possible never to be found again in their haunting gaze.

Hello, my name is Kagome.

I am a 500-year-old ghost stuck in the shell of a 27-year woman with raven black hair that falls to just below my shoulders.

I once held a shimmering blue gaze full of childish hope, but as the years have gone and left me yearning for the freedom I once possessed, and with each passing of the crescent moon over the darkened sky, a little more of my soul is sucked out and destroyed forever more.

I lived in a time of war when I was alive, I was a successful miko, trained in the art of the ancients, battling demon as I went and never thinking of what life I took or what families would suffered because of my ways.

But after many years of war and a many of restless nights fighting the overwhelming feeling of paranoia only to get up the next day and fight a loosing battle once more,.......... it ended.

It was an enormous battle of gore and blood.

We didn't know it, but that fateful day, we had marched ourselves right into a manslaughter.

Yes, that most defiantly describes the gruesome scenes that haunt my ever waking moment, that torture my mind into spiraling into a pit of despair as my platoon of soldiers' cried out in agony and the overwhelming sense of helplessness and fear that flooded my heart there directly after, which still today, rings true in my dainty ears.

Of coarse I fought with everything I had, but in the end it wasn't enough, I had failed everyone.

My fault, my burden to carry, my family lost, all of it was my responsibility, they never knew how the war began, but I did. "That retched jewel."

A sting in my side reminded me of why I still sat here alone, why I was the only survivor of all of those poor boys and girls who never got the chance to actually enjoy life and live it to its extent.

No one remembers you know.

I'm the soul survivor.

The only one, and I almost feel as if I'm to the point of insanity.

But what is insane?

They trapped me, I'm trapped and alone, I'm dying alone and...this frightens me, all alone.

This one torturous phrase continually ricochets in my brain, invading my thoughts and I can feel myself falling.

"To where you ask?"

I know not. Only that it's dark, and I'm frightened by how everyday, more light disappears from my view and by how deep this pit seems to fall.

Use to, I would keep myself from falling by thoughts of freedom, of family, of friend and people whom still knew whom I was, and were waiting for my return.

But nobody knows now, and I have sat here in this room with my soul trapped in a flower for many a decades, and no demon, nor many humans have come or been spotted by my hawk like eyes in all this time, and still maybe...maybe if I were to let go, I wouldn't be alone anymore, maybe if I allow myself to fall, I could find peace once and for all.

With a startling vigorous shake of her almost transparent head to rid herself of her treacherous thoughts, she maneuvered her mind's path from their despair, like the many times beforehand, and continued to look out the window from the second story house at the beautiful arrays of colors that painted her dark skies bright once more, renewing new hope into her frail form.

No, I can't.

My responsibilities still exist and as long as this curse is actively trapping me, I will live for as long as it takes to evaporate my soul into the awaiting abyss.

But maybe, just maybe, someone will find me...............no, no one will come and I will die. Do hang on hope, for it will only let you do.

Her thoughts trailed off once more as she rose from her spot on the ice-covered windowpane and strolled leisurely to the sliding rice paper door.

The warmth of the newly created sunrise forgone, even though it shined upon her unfeeling back, and through to the exquisitely painted screen of a moon and sun together, with the hauntingly accurate details of what she had come to be known as the manslaughter. And with only a snap of her wrist and a turn of her form, she left behind the black room with it's glowing flower, for the gray hallway, to start her daily duties.

---please report to me of anything that I needed to fix to help my aduience to understand or enjoy this story better, Thank YOu!!!............

Your truly,

sassy_sango26

INUYASHA © Rumiko Takahashi/Shogakukan • Yomiuri TV • Sunrise 2000
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