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for isle - Neverwas - 04-03-2016 Rile makes it look so easy. Of course he does, he came out bold and daring, somehow believing he's a gift to the world and not a burden. He is black as the dead of night, all but his legs. He looks like he leapt into a puddle of starlight and it stuck to his lower legs, nebulae swirling and shining and clinging to him like he really is a gift from the whatever gods watch over this strange new world. He walked right up to the first person he saw here and charmed his way into her heart and her home. But me? I'm no night sky dipped in starlight. I'm dull earth-tinged shadows and smoke, soot and ash and cinders. There is nothing shining about me, no celestial bodies twinkling from my dirt-brown eyes. I am not about to hold him back, so I let those shadows claim me, sinking backward into the darkness and fading away. I wonder how long he'll even remember he ever had a twin. Maybe I will be nothing more than the imaginary friend he had once upon a time, only a distant memory of bodies entwined in darkness, cushioned from the world by warmth and water and the thudding of heartbeats. Maybe I will be a story he tells himself as he falls asleep, or a pleasant dream that visits him now and then. But one mare can only produce so much milk, and I will not deprive him of his best chance at survival. And besides, the colt already at her side means he will have a new brother. Bigger, stronger, so much better than I would have been. So much better than I could ever be. As quietly as I can, I skulk through the shadows at the edges of this strange clearing where it seems customary for mothers to dispose of their young, and others to come and pick through the rejected to find those worth saving. That's not me. I'll save the lot of them the trouble. I wonder how long it takes a newborn to die of starvation. Not long, I imagine. Maybe I won't even die, maybe I'll just slowly come undone, breathing out the solid parts of me until I am a wisp, shadows and smoke in truth instead of just the colors of my body. I can still hear Rile charming his new mother and brother, though his voice is fading as they walk away, a happy new family off to their home somewhere far away from here. I hope it lasts. I hope they love him, and take good care of him, and he grows up big and strong. Well, as big as we can be anyhow. His new mother is much larger than the one who left us here, and his new brother is much larger than either of us. Larger than we would even be if we could take both our masses and combine them into one colt. That's good. Probably it means they'll be better able to protect him, right? Hiding is hard work, and I soon grow weary. I try first to rest in the shelter of a shrub, but it is prickly with thorns and the branches poke me, and the discomfort is not worth the cover it would grant. Instead, I curl up against the trunk of a large tree, with lovely rough bark that scratches an itchy spot on my side as I lower myself to the ground. There are shadows still, cast by its thick foliage, and after all I am much more soot than ash. I doubt anyone will see me. And even if they do, it won't take them long to see I am not one of the rare gems worth saving from this refuse pile. Unconcerned, I close my eyes and try to sleep. RE: for isle - isle - 04-04-2016 hold my hand, it's a long way down to the bottom of the river Isle ![]() RE: for isle - Neverwas - 04-04-2016 As I fall asleep, the world around me fades away. No more am I alone in the shadows, left behind by a mother who didn't want me and a brother who was better off without me. No, my dream is of warmth and darkness, cushioned from the world by a sea of water, tangled up in my brother and wrapped in our mother's endless embrace. She was safety, in that time before this brief life began, a time marked only by the intermingling drumbeats of three hearts. That safety was fleeting, lasting only as long as her body could hold us. Now it's just a sweet memory, a comfort in my weariness. In my dream, I feel the gentle rocking motion as she walks, her belly swaying and soothing the ever-restless Rile. If she was still too long, he would kick, demanding movement, demanding more of that rhythmic rocking. I always tried to let her rest, to embrace the stillness and the subtle waves of her breathing. It must be hard work, after all, growing two new people. But Rile knew what he wanted even then, and was never shy about taking it. It is my shining light memory, this dream, the only place the starlight touches me. So when I feel warm breath against my skin, it fits. She is safety, of course she is watching over me, running her oh so gentle muzzle over the downy fuzz of my neck, playing with the scruffy strands of my ashen mane. “Momma?” I murmur, stirring to wakefulness as she presses her lips to a sensitive spot behind my ears. Her voice, almost imperceptible in its gentleness, is the dissonant note that breaks the reverie of my dream. “Wake up, little love,” she says to me, her voice barely above a whisper. So gentle. And as I wake, I remember. Not Momma, with her dark coat and vibrant mane and tail. Momma was not gentle, and would never have called me love. I blink my eyes open, ashen lashes fluttering through my field of vision once, twice, thrice before I can focus in on her face. Her eyes are a rich, dark brown, wide and endlessly deep, and an ache starts deep in my chest. Something new, something I don't have a name for yet. A quiet yearning for...for home. Like my heart is stretching itself in my chest, reaching toward her and begging her to reach back. But I am not meant to be loved, or to be cuddled or crooned to or rocked to sleep. I almost forgot it for a moment, but it comes crashing back down on me. “That's not my name,” I whisper, looking away from those endless eyes. Don't see me, that glance says, as I shrink in on myself and stare at the ground, not letting myself want the impossible. “You must be looking for someone else. I'm not little love, I'm...Nnneverwas.” Why does it hurt so much more to say it to her? When mother named me, it was just a fact, just an inevitability. I was the smaller twin, whisper-thin and barely there and destined to fade into oblivion. It was a truth, nothing more and nothing less. Now, though, the word cracks something in my chest, maybe the heart that still reaches for home even as I fight it and hide it and try to breathe like I'm not breaking. I am Neverwas, meant to never be, and when she knows it she will leave me to come undone in peace. RE: for isle - isle - 04-20-2016 hold my hand, it's a long way down to the bottom of the river Isle ![]() RE: for isle - Neverwas - 04-20-2016 If I could collapse in on myself and dissolve into nothing I would. I'd crush the shattering glass inside my chest into fine powder and let the wind carry it away, carry all of me away and scatter me into oblivion and just let it be done instead of taking so long. It didn't hurt at first, not my name, not my mother's unceremonious goodbye, not even really letting Rile go because it was supposed to be that way, the stronger twin surviving and the weaker one failing to thrive. But I can't will myself to come undone faster no matter how hard I try. For the tiniest instant I forgot that I shouldn't exist, and in that fraction of a heartbeat I learned what it is to yearn. But she knows now. She knows, and she's going to leave too, and when she does I think I really will die because no heart could possibly keep beating when it's in so many jagged pieces. Especially one that was never meant to beat in the first place. She speaks my name, and it makes my breaking heart skip a beat. See? It's already starting to fail. She hasn't even turned away yet and I'm dying one faltering beat at a time. Go, go, go, please, I can't take it much longer, but she doesn't listen. “No,” she says, and I wonder for a moment if she's read my mind. My body starts to tremble, the whole world hanging on her next words. And when they come, I think I must have missed it, must have missed the part where I die, because an angel stands in front of me offering me all of heaven with one little sentence. But no, my body's still trembling and my heart's still beating. I can't quite make myself move, can barely breathe while I try to understand. I'm not dreaming. Life couldn't be that cruel, to give me a dream like this and then make me wake up all alone. Could it? She touches me gently, as if she can feel how fragile my insides are, and my body moves to stand of its own accord, my mind still frozen with terror that I'll wake up if I'm not careful. And then I'm suddenly curled up against her chest and sobbing out my heartache against her skin. I don't know how long the tears last; it feels like forever. But when they are gone and my chest feels a little less jagged inside, I take a deep, shaky breath and nod. “I think I could be Nevi. At least, I can try.” |