Linda Chapple, the writer of such fanfics as "Snow Demons," "Pistols at Dawn," and "Quality Shopping" has come up with another story found nowhere else on the web (I think).
|: Regrets, I've Had A Few :| Tim O'Neill is trapped in a communications outpost when a quake hit. His biggest regret? The thought of not making up with his best friend.
These are some fanfiction I made myself. Hopefully, there'll be more. I'm working on it in between school downtime, but unfortunately, they're so few.
|: Phases of Savage Delite :| Tim O'Neill's album review of Savage Garden....... well, sort of.
"Kimura was the one to whom he turned to. She was the one he thought who could understand. She was the one that made him smile. And she was the one whom he could get lost to.
And Tim gave her the best he thought he could give: his heart.
And all that was left of it was blown out of the water.
And then the smile died.
|: Heavenly Mind :| (working title) - Can Tim find solace from his recent past?
"Then, he felt it. Sadness. A deep sorrow as desolate as his own, that he almost drowned at the aggrandized burden. He started to back away, in his mind, when he sense this gloom melt away and give into another vision: fire. It began a small flicker, then it grew to a raging flame. This he knew to be the anger that burned in her. Its intensity was all too frighteningly resembling his own suppressed fury against Kimura, a growing bitterness where love once sprang.
NO, his mind cried out. How? How could this stranger feel like I do? How… These mirrored sensations overrode his rationality. The torturous images he tried so hard to forget swirled dizzily before his eyes.
He felt alone, more than ever. He was now standing at the darkest corners of his mind, a place where he shut out all his unheard cries, dark memories, and his loneliness. He was drawn here to consume him, demanding release.
Tim could feel his chest tighten, his breathing getting constricted. Nothing came out of his lips. He remembered those times he still suffered those anxiety attacks when he would black out once he couldn't breathe. They happened too often then that he knew precisely what could happen next. He smiled gratefully. He was prepared to embrace the prospect of unconsciousness. Better that than to grope in his dark abyss… "