Aerith, Dreaming of Forever Part 1
Alone in the Cold
By Aerith's Man
Aerith Gainsborough, a beautiful, graceful girl of twenty-two
years, sat by herself, cold, hungry, and alone, against a tall, strong tree
in a clearing somewhere in the Sleeping Forest. Her every bone seemed
to ache with the chill. However, her expression showed no ire, and
in fact was very peaceful. She hadn't brought many things with her
for her trip, just a sleeping bag, some clothes and equipment, and a little
food. She had misjudged the distance between the town of Fossil and
the City of the Ancients, and had brought enough food to only last her a
few days, and since she had never tried to hunt a wild animal, she couldn't
catch anything to eat, either..
Can't think about....can't think about the hunger.....the
chill.......Cloud and the others..... I have a mission. My own mission,
and I can't rest until I fulfill it. I can feel it in my heart....there's
something in the City of the Ancients, something left by my ancestors.....the
Cetra.....and it's my job to discover it. It's fate, it's destiny.
So don't think about the hardships. You knew it was going to be hard
before you set out.
Aerith was dressed in a long, slender, thin white dress, and
had let her long brown ponytail out so that her hair fell freely across her
shoulders. She was wrapped up tightly in a large fur blanket that Cloud
Strife, her friend, had bought for her. Or at least, she thought Cloud
was her friend. He never really acted friendly... never said
much, very withdrawn, too cool.... or maybe he really didn't care.
"I'm just doing my job," he had said. Is that all it is for him?
Just his 'job'? Does he care about Tifa, or Barret, or Cid, or....
me? About the people whose lives he took defending himself and
us? Or is he just an efficient killing machine, like Shinra wants
SOLDIER's to be? He always acts like he doesn't care about anything,
or anyone, but I can tell... In the Gold Saucer, when he took me-or
rather, I took him—A slight giggle escaped her lips despite her
afflictions, inside and out—when he took me on the ferry ride, his
face—the cold facade, the impenetrable wall against emotion— seemed
to soften a bit.....almost as if being around a woman, alone, eased him of
the pressure to act tough and sarcastic, and showed the real personality
inside. The personality I love about him, not the fake act of
coolness. I think that's what the others love about him, too, the few
times he shows it. He appears to be mean, and cynical beyond his years,
but he's not really that way.
At least, I think he's not....
She knew she would start daydreaming about Cloud.
She always did when she was alone. He was so perplexing to her, nothing
he did seemed to make sense. Tifa and Barret and Cid were usually open
with her, and would talk to her, although Barret was hard to understand with
his Midgar slums accent and Cid spouted foul language like a Marlboro used
Bad Breath, but they were still good to talk to, when she needed a friend.
Except Tifa....she was always so perky, and optimistic, and full of hope
that it made Aerith jealous to be around her.
Tifa, no matter what happens....she's always so happy,
for no reason at all...she doesn't doubt herself, she's got tons of self-esteem,
and she can talk to Cloud whenever she feel likes it....while I'm always
wondering, wondering, wondering, who am I, who were my ancestors, why can't
I just stand up and tell Cloud how I feel...
How DO I feel?
I feel that......Cloud doesn't like me. That he
puts up with me just because I'm friends with the others. Because it's his
job. I just want to have a normal conversation with him, like Tifa.
That's all. Because he's the only one in the group who's really like
me. Introspective, introverted, drawn within ourselves as if we were
living our lives alone....
You think too much, Aerith Gainsborough.
And it's dangerous to think of yourself in the third person.
So stop doing it already.
She saw the long pink ribbon she used to tie her hair
lying on the ground where she had left it, and, unable to go to sleep, gently
lifted it off the ground and studied it, finding herself comparing the ribbon
to herself. It was fragile, and weak, and the very color of it, that
light, pastel-shaded pink, suggested a faintness of heart. Just as
she was. Fragile, weak, faint-hearted, unable to express her true feelings
for anyone, toward anyone, about anyone. Sighing, she laid it upon
her chest and looked up at the stars.
As her thoughts wandered on, and on, she found herself drifting
off.... Aerith slowly lay down next to her failed attempts
to start a fire, down on her soft sleeping bag, brushed her hair away from
her face, and slowly drifted to sleep. A deep, deep sleep that would bring
her many dreams.
.