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My Name: Nicatlon
Story's name: Voices in the night
Rating: G (???)
Email-Adresse: nicatlon@t-online.de
Classification: Poem, maybe Vignette
Keywords: JSF, Jarod's POV
Timeline: every night since his escape :
Copyright: The characters of The Pretender do not belong to me. I do not make any money with them. Every other character belongs to me and is copyrighted.
Author's note: This is my first ENGLISH poem about Pretender. Please be very, very, very patient or I'll stop writing for the rest of my life! Hi, I'm just kidding!
Summary: When you are really lonely and depressed, strange thoughts can wander through your mind.
In the heart of the night
silent voices tell you about feeling loved and feeling safe.
I can hear the voices but I can't understand them.
I just don't know the meaning of words like "love" and "protect"
Stop, that isn't completely true!
There was a time in my life, when I had been familiar with those words.
But this time I've left behind me long ago now.
In the moment I ran away from that place like hell,
I started a new life.
And I killed the old one entirely and without looking back.
Do not misunderstand me! I really don't regret my escape!
It was the best decision I ever made.
But I had to leave behind the only person I've ever trusted; I've ever loved, too.
The person who cared for me, who stopped my streaming tears in the night.
The person who rocked me gently in his arms and whispered smoothing words.
You know, who I mean, don't you?
Sydney! Oh god, I miss him so much!
Of course, we talk to each other almost every day.
But a telephone conversation isn't as familiar as a face-to-face talk.
Familiar, a word that comes from family.
Hah, what a strange association to the man who held me as a prisoner
for over thirty years.
Nonetheless, it is correct.
I feel for him like he is related to me. Not blood related, of course!
Mental related in a very strong way.
I didn't get fully free, when I ran away!
I'm still imprisoned; imprisoned between two feelings for him.
Hate!
I hate him for what he had done to me.
For abusing me, for scaring me with those damned simulations!
I hate him for lying to me.
Love!
I love him for what he had done to me.
For being there for me, for taking pain away from me!
I love him for being my imaginary father.
Love is always stronger than hate.
The voices come back again.
They sing their mystical song and tears stream down my cheeks.
I want to join them singing about love!
I just want to feel love one more time!
Sometimes when the sting of being lost hits me harshly,
I think about going back.
Just to be held from his muscular arms.
Just to see his calm and gentle eyes.
These thoughts scare the hell out of me!
I can imagine very clearly what would happen, if I would go back there.
They would never let me see Sydney again.
They would separate me from him; probably give me to a monster like Raynes.
I know all those things, but I couldn't stop the thoughts from appearing.
They just overwhelm me in dark and lonely nights.
The wind carries them into my wrecked soul.
And the children of the wind, the voices in the night, make the thoughts plausible.
Ende
Story's name: Voices in the night
Rating: G (???)
Email-Adresse: nicatlon@t-online.de
Classification: Poem, maybe Vignette
Keywords: JSF, Jarod's POV
Timeline: every night since his escape :
Copyright: The characters of The Pretender do not belong to me. I do not make any money with them. Every other character belongs to me and is copyrighted.
Author's note: This is my first ENGLISH poem about Pretender. Please be very, very, very patient or I'll stop writing for the rest of my life! Hi, I'm just kidding!
Summary: When you are really lonely and depressed, strange thoughts can wander through your mind.
In the heart of the night
silent voices tell you about feeling loved and feeling safe.
I can hear the voices but I can't understand them.
I just don't know the meaning of words like "love" and "protect"
Stop, that isn't completely true!
There was a time in my life, when I had been familiar with those words.
But this time I've left behind me long ago now.
In the moment I ran away from that place like hell,
I started a new life.
And I killed the old one entirely and without looking back.
Do not misunderstand me! I really don't regret my escape!
It was the best decision I ever made.
But I had to leave behind the only person I've ever trusted; I've ever loved, too.
The person who cared for me, who stopped my streaming tears in the night.
The person who rocked me gently in his arms and whispered smoothing words.
You know, who I mean, don't you?
Sydney! Oh god, I miss him so much!
Of course, we talk to each other almost every day.
But a telephone conversation isn't as familiar as a face-to-face talk.
Familiar, a word that comes from family.
Hah, what a strange association to the man who held me as a prisoner
for over thirty years.
Nonetheless, it is correct.
I feel for him like he is related to me. Not blood related, of course!
Mental related in a very strong way.
I didn't get fully free, when I ran away!
I'm still imprisoned; imprisoned between two feelings for him.
Hate!
I hate him for what he had done to me.
For abusing me, for scaring me with those damned simulations!
I hate him for lying to me.
Love!
I love him for what he had done to me.
For being there for me, for taking pain away from me!
I love him for being my imaginary father.
Love is always stronger than hate.
The voices come back again.
They sing their mystical song and tears stream down my cheeks.
I want to join them singing about love!
I just want to feel love one more time!
Sometimes when the sting of being lost hits me harshly,
I think about going back.
Just to be held from his muscular arms.
Just to see his calm and gentle eyes.
These thoughts scare the hell out of me!
I can imagine very clearly what would happen, if I would go back there.
They would never let me see Sydney again.
They would separate me from him; probably give me to a monster like Raynes.
I know all those things, but I couldn't stop the thoughts from appearing.
They just overwhelm me in dark and lonely nights.
The wind carries them into my wrecked soul.
And the children of the wind, the voices in the night, make the thoughts plausible.
Ende
