Self-fulfilling Prophecy.
Not intended to be a fan-fiction. Take it as you will. I wanted to elaborate on my thoughts/theories of what happened in the past, but things started to go awry. This is a cliff-notes version of a story that I’ll never write, but hope to see play out on screen some day.
There once was a boy that loved his father. We all know his name, or at least, what it once was.
He was a very unique and different boy. He knew he was different, that he could see things–feel things–do things that others could not. People fear that which they do not understand. His mother saw his curiosity, but remained silent. She worried that others would avoid him, that some might even try and steal him away. She thought, with time it might slow to a simmer. Maybe, she was mistaken. Steadily, the feelings increased in the boy. They became an undeniable part of himself. Always hidden, always a secret.
People fear that which they do not understand.
The boy’s own father never understood. He was open about it. At night, he would reminisce about old battles, always speaking of the gift the boy had in distrust and disbelief. The boy grew older and began to realize that he was alone. Painfully, alone. There was no one to accept him as he was.
One day, something horrible happened. A boy was able to use his gift to save a life. There were witnesses, including his own father. What the boy feared most happened in fatal shades of grey across his own father’s face.
Shock. Denial. Horror. Repulsion. Rejection.
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What the boy failed to see was his father’s fear. His father’s pity of the path the boy’s life would take. The boy was sent away was the memory of being rejected–of his own father stepping away from him.
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It took time for the boy to adjust, but he did. He began to thrive with others similar to himself. He learned quickly and excelled. Still–he kept himself–his thoughts–well protected. In time, even he would have learned to trust again. Unfortunately, time ran out too quickly.
Many lives were taken and fingers pointed to him as the culprit. No one believed him. The evidence was stacked against him. Once again the eyes of those he most trusted–his Uncle, his mother, his father darkened in disappointment and fear. The world agreed–it was him–it had to be. It must be in his blood… His mother at least had some softness to her gaze, but he could see her thoughts. She fought valiantly in her mind to find an explanation–any explanation that proved otherwise.
Someone did believe him, or maybe they didn’t. It didn’t really matter to the boy. He had already been betrayed. His own parents feared him and did not believe his innocence. He was more alone than ever before, with no one on his side. For survival, for his sanity, he left.
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There may have been a witness. There may have been a survivor of the madness. There may yet be a way to bring light of the truth once again.
Sadly, for the boy, he gave up a very long time ago. Those dearest to him did not believe him and thought him to be a monster.
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It was heartbreaking. The boy–now a man–found a girl.
He felt her energy and knew she felt it too. It was undeniable. It was justthem. “It’s only us now.” He allowed himself to feel hope again. He felt desperation. She had to understand him, to accept him. There it was again–Rejection.
He was spurned again and marked by it, literally. As she landed misguided blows at him, he sickly enjoyed it. Like a jealous child, he delighted that she finally focused on him. As long as he could keep standing, she funneled her rage at him and saw only him.
As she left him bleeding, he raised her on a pedestal. She may not know what she is, or what she is capable of, but she knew who she was. He doubted himself. He became angry–angry at himself that he wasn’t enough for her. That she did not recognize him. She was the only person that was his equal.
And she called him “monster” and left him to die in the snow.
-- Hope you all enjoy my drawing as well.
