11-08-2018, 02:25 PM
Jinn
I had a dream that we were dead,
and we pretended that we still lived
and we pretended that we still lived
When she had slipped beneath the rippling surface of the river and disappeared much the same way she had arrived, he had been unsurprised. It is the way of those who enter his life. No one truly wishes to be acquainted with a monster like he. He is not fearsome enough to inspire great emotion in anyone, nor is he plain enough to be treated as though he is nothing more than a normal stallion.
His very birth had been cursed it seems. Even his father had believed it. Only his twin had ever seen him as something more, but she had long ago disappeared.
And so he remains alone, forever the outcast. The monster living on the fringes of polite society, where everyone can pretend he doesn’t exist even as they gape in horror when they catch a glimpse.
Still, a small foolish part of him continues to desire more. To wish that his life might be different. Better, somehow. And foolishly he had waited for her. A vain hope that her ears might once more peek above the current. But she hadn’t. Perhaps it was the way he had torn his own skin, or the sickly pall of death over his gaunt features, but somehow he had frightened her away. And though he had remained in that icy water until his skin had grown numb and his limbs stiff, she hadn’t returned.
But what else had he had to do?
Now he haunts the woods once more, his days bleeding together until time seems meaningless. It’s so very easy to lose track. Even that brief rumble and the voice of their gods had only marked the passing of a day. It seems nothing else had truly changed for him.
He pays little attention to where his feet carry him. Bare limbs stretch above, reaching skeletal fingers through the chill winter gloom. The trees have begun to thin as he comes closer to the river, but he doesn’t seem to notice. It isn’t until the soft step of feet through snow reaches his ears that he realizes he is no longer alone. His gaze sharpens as he peers cautiously around a tree, a lifetime of experience teaching him discretion. He stills when his filmy eyes settle upon a slim figure. Her body had been hidden by the murky waters of the river, but that golden visage would be recognizable anywhere.
He had not expected to see her again. And he does not expect she had come here for him. He wonders if it is too late for him to simply melt back into the trees, disappearing before she ever even knew he was there. Rejection is an old acquaintance of his, but still it cuts when they run from him. No matter how many times the story has repeated itself before him.
His very birth had been cursed it seems. Even his father had believed it. Only his twin had ever seen him as something more, but she had long ago disappeared.
And so he remains alone, forever the outcast. The monster living on the fringes of polite society, where everyone can pretend he doesn’t exist even as they gape in horror when they catch a glimpse.
Still, a small foolish part of him continues to desire more. To wish that his life might be different. Better, somehow. And foolishly he had waited for her. A vain hope that her ears might once more peek above the current. But she hadn’t. Perhaps it was the way he had torn his own skin, or the sickly pall of death over his gaunt features, but somehow he had frightened her away. And though he had remained in that icy water until his skin had grown numb and his limbs stiff, she hadn’t returned.
But what else had he had to do?
Now he haunts the woods once more, his days bleeding together until time seems meaningless. It’s so very easy to lose track. Even that brief rumble and the voice of their gods had only marked the passing of a day. It seems nothing else had truly changed for him.
He pays little attention to where his feet carry him. Bare limbs stretch above, reaching skeletal fingers through the chill winter gloom. The trees have begun to thin as he comes closer to the river, but he doesn’t seem to notice. It isn’t until the soft step of feet through snow reaches his ears that he realizes he is no longer alone. His gaze sharpens as he peers cautiously around a tree, a lifetime of experience teaching him discretion. He stills when his filmy eyes settle upon a slim figure. Her body had been hidden by the murky waters of the river, but that golden visage would be recognizable anywhere.
He had not expected to see her again. And he does not expect she had come here for him. He wonders if it is too late for him to simply melt back into the trees, disappearing before she ever even knew he was there. Rejection is an old acquaintance of his, but still it cuts when they run from him. No matter how many times the story has repeated itself before him.
Sorry for novel, apparently this made me musey haha
