“You’ll be fine. The weight is just heavy. You just need to take a break and sit. You’re strong enough to push through it, like you’ve done countless times before.”
Choose:
> “…but, sometimes, it’s nice when others say it for me, too.”
> “…but, no one can help you other than you… right?”
Dare to Write Challenge
prompt #7: rain-drenched
AO3 ver.
How beautiful you were as you stood before me, gaze parted from where I was. Tints of gorgeous rainbow sparkles shimmered in defiance to the greyed skies above within your eyes and I swore in that moment I saw more than normal of mortal kind. A warrior soul and an angel's heart; I couldn't be any more enraptured with you than I was.
Though, your body stiff and straight as she walked away. I never would have imagined I would witness someone fall apart before me, much less that person be you. Pieces of me broke apart as yours did as you became unraveled, life fading from all that made you who you are.
What kind of monstrosity did you allow into your soul for you to fracture as you did?
Yet, even as the winds blew against your skin with the heavens above weeping with your silent cries, you did not move. The crimson that marked your skin from where your grip was much too tight faded away with the waters that fell. I wanted nothing more than to hold you in my arms even as I heard my heart shatter loud within my ears, to be the one to console you from the agony you must feel.
In the end, my feet would not move me forward and I stood there and watched. How pitiful were we, two broken hearts, left behind amidst the cold. There was no fire that would warm our cores and no amount of words would have expressed the turbulent emotions riling within our chests.
All we could was stand there, rain-drenched, more than chilled to the bone
love is drawing unfamiliar faces;
love is gnashing into tender fruit;
love is crawling through water
& pretending you’re not drowning;
love is peeling away layers upon layers;
love is biting your nails down to nothing;
love is tracing back to the beginning,
to yield all arising problems;
love is blindly driving around town;
love is changing the smallest parts around;
love is painting yourself in rose-gold,
shielding eyes from the ugliness;
love is crashing into another body;
love is weeping in the middle of the night;
love is wondering why the sun has disappeared
& never knowing when it will return;
We watched the flickers of flames and listened to the crackling of wood as the insecurity of tomorrow encompassed us like a veil. To escape imprisonment is a death sentence without the blade slicing off our heads, an hourglass quickly losing the sands of time. If one were to be caught, all of us would follow, and our lives would hardly be worth the sacrifice.
We abandoned the kingdom of slavery, hoping for a new world, and all we found was darkness and despair outside of our bubble of ignorance. This hardship was next to nothing, but the fear of not knowing what was to come next consumed us, maddened us, and threatened to tear us all apart. Us, friends from all backgrounds and histories, that dared call each other family.
I turned to gaze into the eyes of my comrades, into irises of beautiful sapphire and emeralds, onyx and topaz. I witnessed the destruction of their flesh, the reddened lines on their arms and legs from cuts beginning to leave behind scars. I was pained at the sight of the bruises, patches of black and blue that we could no longer tell whether from our desperation or from our past service.
It was then I truly began to wonder: were our lives, meager and pitiful as they were, doomed from the start?
"There was a story of a warrior I read once, in a book that I had stolen from the markets," our leader mused.
All of our eyes turned towards him, but his own remained on the sunset hues that warmed our cold, frightened bodies. I watched the shadows dance in the reflections of his eyes, a melancholy smile stitched upon his lips.
"What did it say?" I asked to break the silence.
"It said that the gods are afraid of us," he whispered as he tossed more wood into the flames, "we are the damaged gods that they are afraid of becoming whole."
Our leader's eyes lit with a passion I had never before seen and, somehow, something within my own being ignited. A resonance bounced within me, yearning to escape, to prove to the captors a truth beyond understanding. To prove his words true.
"We are the damaged gods," he declared softly, pure resolution masking his expression, "and we will become whole."
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