User Profile
Add Friend
Add Note
Track User
Send Message
Send V-Gift
Un Insecto Atrapó en el Ambar
What is a Ghost?
Created on 2007-03-26 21:30:48 (#12585302), last updated 2007-11-05
141 comments received, 2,656 comments posted
Basic Account [Gift]
17 Journal Entries, 3 Tags, 7 Memories, 0 Virtual Gifts, 6 Userpics
Basic Info| Name: | Aquele que Suspira |
|---|
BioWhat is a ghost?
A tragedy condemned to repeat itself time and again?
A moment of pain, perhaps.
Something dead which seems still to be alive.
An emotion suspended in time.
Like a blurred photograph,
Like an insect trapped in amber,
A ghost.
That’s what I am.
Santi. His name used to be Santi. He knows this and clings to this, and answers when it’s spoken, with what he can. Santi, the howl in the wind. The rasping breath in the hallway. The knock on the door when no one’s there. The darkness creeping through the keyhole.
He doesn’t remember anything else much about his life, except what he hears them whisper in the dormitory. They call him ‘the sighing one’ and he knocks over water pitchers some night, so they’ll know he can do more than sigh. They’re frightened of him.
He feels sorry for them, because he knows they’re going to die. A lot of them are going to die.
He remembers Jacinto, too. He remembers dying. Jacinto’s hands holding his throat, the shaking, the push that sent him into the wall, the sick crunch of his forehead against the stone. He even remembers Jaime crying over his body. He remembers the ropes around his legs.
He remembers being thrown into the water, the sick, dank taste of it in the back of his throat as what’s left of him bleeds out. The water had been a beautiful, bottle green colour, like the sky on a sunny day. The water had been beautiful, and he remembers he’d used to be down there to collect the fat slugs that gathered on the cool stones. He remembers sitting there with Jaime to escape the burning heat of the Spanish desert.
The water is the colour of amber, now. The water is the colour of the spiced rum the professor used to keep the unborn children in. The knobs of their spines (devil’s backbone) sticking out like red mouths, with white fangs, like a horrible sort of wound.
His forehead is shattered now, he can see it in his reflection, it’s like a cracked jug and it has a trickle of red blood, seeping upwards, like he’s still dropping down and down through the rum-water grave. His skin is the colour of the grey stone around him, the colour has faded out of his clothes. His bones show when he steps into the sunlight.
Santi is from Devil’s Backbone, and is the property of Guillarmo Del Toro. He appears here solely for the purpose of role-playing in![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/community.gif)
milliways_bar, from which no profit whatsoever is being made. Also, hogwarts_hocus
A tragedy condemned to repeat itself time and again?
A moment of pain, perhaps.
Something dead which seems still to be alive.
An emotion suspended in time.
Like a blurred photograph,
Like an insect trapped in amber,
A ghost.
That’s what I am.
Santi. His name used to be Santi. He knows this and clings to this, and answers when it’s spoken, with what he can. Santi, the howl in the wind. The rasping breath in the hallway. The knock on the door when no one’s there. The darkness creeping through the keyhole.
He doesn’t remember anything else much about his life, except what he hears them whisper in the dormitory. They call him ‘the sighing one’ and he knocks over water pitchers some night, so they’ll know he can do more than sigh. They’re frightened of him.
He feels sorry for them, because he knows they’re going to die. A lot of them are going to die.
He remembers Jacinto, too. He remembers dying. Jacinto’s hands holding his throat, the shaking, the push that sent him into the wall, the sick crunch of his forehead against the stone. He even remembers Jaime crying over his body. He remembers the ropes around his legs.
He remembers being thrown into the water, the sick, dank taste of it in the back of his throat as what’s left of him bleeds out. The water had been a beautiful, bottle green colour, like the sky on a sunny day. The water had been beautiful, and he remembers he’d used to be down there to collect the fat slugs that gathered on the cool stones. He remembers sitting there with Jaime to escape the burning heat of the Spanish desert.
The water is the colour of amber, now. The water is the colour of the spiced rum the professor used to keep the unborn children in. The knobs of their spines (devil’s backbone) sticking out like red mouths, with white fangs, like a horrible sort of wound.
His forehead is shattered now, he can see it in his reflection, it’s like a cracked jug and it has a trickle of red blood, seeping upwards, like he’s still dropping down and down through the rum-water grave. His skin is the colour of the grey stone around him, the colour has faded out of his clothes. His bones show when he steps into the sunlight.
Santi is from Devil’s Backbone, and is the property of Guillarmo Del Toro. He appears here solely for the purpose of role-playing in
milliways_bar, from which no profit whatsoever is being made. Also, hogwarts_hocus ConnectInterests (9):
External Services:
 | ahogarse@livejournal.com | |
 | UndrwO |  |
Friends [View Entries] Friends (15):
a1enzo, ahogarse, azure_mercy, bodiesfordad, didntseeit, dust_to_order, gotapenny, maydaybrat, observethesound, over_europe, ratatouiller, rigthegames, street_sparrow, swishystjames, weeper_of_blood
Friend of (10):
Communities [View Entries] Watching (6):
Member of (3):
Feeds [View Entries] Watching (0)
