'Wait' - A Kingdom Hearts Fan-Fic

Hey y'all.

I wrote this fan-fiction one night when I was sleep deprived and, after much editing, cutting and pasting, I decided to post it on the internet. It's rated T for mature themes (but there's nothing graphic!). There is some mild language, but not the classic four letter words. I'd appreciate it if you let me know what you think.

'Wait' - A Kingdom Hearts Fan-Fiction (<- link)

Wait
A Kingdom Hearts Fan-Fiction​

By Changeling​

Every day it was the same. The sea crashed against the sandy beach, not too violent but still harsh enough to bring about a deafening shock to the ears. The girl would wait, even just before the sun had emerged over the horizon and day was still a thin shot of light blue peeling away from the black of the night.

Standing.

Motionless.

Breathing.

Staring.

Waiting.

Her auburn hair blew softly in the wind. Her other peers would either be on the main island, talking amongst themselves as if they didn't even remember the girls' two best friends, or they would be playing on the island where she stood, blisfully ignoring her and taking no concern. She remembered the night when she left the boy with the spiked hair. Drops of firefly light seemed to fall like snow from the night sky, bringing back the island she grew to love and cherish. And beyond the sea was where he stood, reaching out to her longingly, mouthing words she couldn't understand from the distance. A magnificent white light surrounded him. It was so big; so vast; so hypnotic. Until it became too bright and managed to engulf him fully, nearly blinding her. She remembered the boys words,

Remember what you said before? I'm always with you too. I'll come back to you. I promise!

He would always be with her. Her heart was a part of his, and his a part of hers... was it not? She slept silently within his body, waiting. Waiting to be released; to be freed; to be alive. Much like how she waited every day to be released from the aching emotional pain she experienced; to be free of the madness and torment her mind played as it asked fatal questions; to be alive and experience life instead of mindlessly waiting on the shores of a beach at every waking moment.

And then a voice struck her mind. A voice so clear, so soft, so gentle that her ears were almost screaming to keep it within her memories;

I know you will!

Her own.

She told herself he would return. She told herself he would live. She told herself the light would overcome the darkness.

She told herself... but was it true? Now she didn't know. All she could do was sit and wait, hoping her life could be like a fairy tale and all her dreams would come true.

But life wasn't a fairy tale.

Sadly fairy tales are for children, and slowly, over time, the girl began to notice changes. Hair growing longer. Body becoming slender. Beginning to notice the sexual nature in men which she had never noticed before. And vice versa: as the opposite sex began to grow and develop, they noticed the sexual energy in the girl which they had never noticed before. What would the spiky haired boy think? What would the other boy think?

And then her mind wandered from one to the other: cinnamon to silver. The silver haired boy... well, he was more of a man now that she thought about it. Broad shoulders. Strong chest. A handsome being. Were these thoughts normal for the girl to think? How could she know? These thoughts began to taint her mind with scenes. Scenes that wouldn't fit into a fairy tale.

She wasn't a girl anymore. She was in a twilight zone of her life: not a girl but not a woman. She was still developing; physically and psychologically. Was it normal to feel such frustration? Such anger? Such sadness? All at the same time? She was a cauldron of emotions spilling over at the rim.

But frustration has to be taken care of. And hunger needs to be satisfied.

And so the girl entangled herself amongst white bedsheets. With men. With women. She took an exploration into her sexuality, all the while still waiting for those boys to return. Every day after a night of heated lust she would stand, robotic amongst the sand and staring out into the horizon. She knew it was wrong. She knew who her heart belonged to. It was wrong and yet so right. Wouldn't he have wanted her to fulfill her needs? Even if it must not be with him? Or would his mind rage with uncontrolled jealousy?

The devil inside of her pleasured itself while the angel inside of her wept. It wept for the innocence of the girl it once knew: the pure thing who danced around the island in play, scribbling pictures on the walls of caves, breathing in the fresh salt air, allowing the two young males among her to playfully compete for her approval and attention. Now the devil took advantage of her developing womanhood, filling her mind with thoughts that should never be. Or should they? Who would decide what was right and what was wrong for her?

Slut.

Hussy.

Whore.

The islanders yelled and jeered as she walked by.

Confusion overwhelmed her. Then she discovered the cabinet that was never to be opened. The cabinet which lay hidden behind the wooden door which held in it such wonder and satisfaction that the girl's curiosity was too much and she found the key and opened the door. She fell victim to the hellish pleasures which lay inside it.

Alcohol.

At first nights. Then evenings. Then afternoons. Then mornings.

Eyes bloodshot and sagging, make-up smeared against pale skin, dried vomit still lurking on her clothes as she cried into pillows. Damp and soggy, she found that when no one would give her the satisfaction she needed anymore, she obliged herself on the pillow. It was disgusting, she knew that, and she was no longer pure. But she couldn't help but sympathise for the screeching soul trapped within her body. Temptation to cascade pleasure throughout her rippling body became too much, and she had to give in. The feeling of total submission in herself rung true through her mind and aroused her, just as the counterpart would feel the role of dominance run through its body, eventually crashing like a wave at the climax.

And still she waited. Until her mind began to wonder. Who was she waiting for? Why was she waiting? Who was she?

She had lost her whole sense of self-identity. She had no idea who she was anymore. Without the two Guardian Angels to guide her she was nothing: a mere parasite in the vast connection of worlds that weaved flawlessly together throughout the universe. A lost memory to some, an inconvenience for others. A chain of memories had been broken. Her mind slowly unhinged. Would she even find the sanctity of a bed comforting anymore? Or would she live amongst the rats and vermin on the streets, begging to passers by.

Silver glistening in the night. Rubies falling on metal. White clashing with black.

The girl played the ultimate waiting game. As she now lay in the sea face down.

Lying.

Motionless.

Still.

Staring.

Silent whispers still echo through the air on cold winter nights.

All good things come to those who can...

Wait.​