02-09-2017, 10:27 PM
Atrani
Stay a while, Atrani.
She hears him, registers what he says, and still hesitates. Her head lifts to his shoulder where she traces her lips across skin and bone. ”Dad,” she whispers, but he has already left her in the meadow. He is gone as quickly as her heart takes another beat, just like mom. Confused, lost, she lies down so that the tall grass swallows her. She envisions herself hidden, but her splotched coat starkly contrasts with the vivid green of summer. In her solitude, she trembles and hums to herself.
Whether her parents are here or not, she is still alone in this dark world.
She can’t see them. Her senses are becoming more acute to take the place of what she lacks, but it still isn’t enough. Father could be standing just far enough away, watching her, but she wouldn’t know any better. This life she has is eternally lonesome, but she doesn’t have great optimism for her welfare. Even if it were to improve, even if she were to somehow find joy, she knows it wouldn’t last. It never does.
Atrani had been gleeful upon being born and finally meeting mother, but she had been rejected.
She sensed mother’s hidden rejection behind her false croons and forced kisses.
Father had his love back, but then she left.
Rhonen had made Atrani smile for the first time, but then they were forced apart.
So, no, nothing great ever lasts.
Her head is curled around her legs. Passersby glance nonchalantly toward her, but they don’t know if she is alive or dead, sleeping or awake. They simply look and move along.
Atrani was beginning to accept this new fate – father is gone, too – but he eventually returns and they are on the move again.
Water laps at her legs and she ambles backward in surprise. ”What is it?” She meekly asks, but father is already answering her and advising her of the path across the sea. ”I won’t,” she reassures in a most feeble voice, suddenly realizing that she is trapped. This isn’t Tephra, she convinces herself, while wondering what Tephra actually is. The word rings in her memory with mother’s voice, but it’s meaningless. One day she will learn, but for now, she is forced to obey father’s whims as he guides her to a hollow. The draping vines glide across her lovingly, but then she is advised to stop. She is unaware of the darkness within – her entire world is dark – and so she finds comfort in lying down while father leaves her again, albeit briefly.
When he returns, his voice rippling the silence, she peers up with hollow sockets and regards him with a mellow sigh. ”She isn’t coming back,” she murmurs into the blackness of their home, ”and I don’t blame her.” Who would want such an atrocity for a child? An abomination? A painful reminder of her faltering relationship with father?
”She didn’t want me.” She didn’t want us.
She hears him, registers what he says, and still hesitates. Her head lifts to his shoulder where she traces her lips across skin and bone. ”Dad,” she whispers, but he has already left her in the meadow. He is gone as quickly as her heart takes another beat, just like mom. Confused, lost, she lies down so that the tall grass swallows her. She envisions herself hidden, but her splotched coat starkly contrasts with the vivid green of summer. In her solitude, she trembles and hums to herself.
Whether her parents are here or not, she is still alone in this dark world.
She can’t see them. Her senses are becoming more acute to take the place of what she lacks, but it still isn’t enough. Father could be standing just far enough away, watching her, but she wouldn’t know any better. This life she has is eternally lonesome, but she doesn’t have great optimism for her welfare. Even if it were to improve, even if she were to somehow find joy, she knows it wouldn’t last. It never does.
Atrani had been gleeful upon being born and finally meeting mother, but she had been rejected.
She sensed mother’s hidden rejection behind her false croons and forced kisses.
Father had his love back, but then she left.
Rhonen had made Atrani smile for the first time, but then they were forced apart.
So, no, nothing great ever lasts.
Her head is curled around her legs. Passersby glance nonchalantly toward her, but they don’t know if she is alive or dead, sleeping or awake. They simply look and move along.
Atrani was beginning to accept this new fate – father is gone, too – but he eventually returns and they are on the move again.
Water laps at her legs and she ambles backward in surprise. ”What is it?” She meekly asks, but father is already answering her and advising her of the path across the sea. ”I won’t,” she reassures in a most feeble voice, suddenly realizing that she is trapped. This isn’t Tephra, she convinces herself, while wondering what Tephra actually is. The word rings in her memory with mother’s voice, but it’s meaningless. One day she will learn, but for now, she is forced to obey father’s whims as he guides her to a hollow. The draping vines glide across her lovingly, but then she is advised to stop. She is unaware of the darkness within – her entire world is dark – and so she finds comfort in lying down while father leaves her again, albeit briefly.
When he returns, his voice rippling the silence, she peers up with hollow sockets and regards him with a mellow sigh. ”She isn’t coming back,” she murmurs into the blackness of their home, ”and I don’t blame her.” Who would want such an atrocity for a child? An abomination? A painful reminder of her faltering relationship with father?
”She didn’t want me.” She didn’t want us.
dove into her eyes and starved all the fears
picture by haenuli shin- HTML by Call - words: ________
[Image: callwolf_zpsasro4cel.png]