No {Rest} for the {Righteous} [Anna]
May 29, 2014 20:38:18 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on May 29, 2014 20:38:18 GMT -5
M I N D O F A W A R R I O R H E A R T O F A C H I L D
[presto]
[/presto]
T E M P L A T E B Y C H E L S E Y
D A L I L A H ▲ D E V E R O U X
The stories that my father told us often began and ended in the same way. From the heroine to the villain, the song remained the same. However, Ally and I were never really bothered by this, for we were content to play our parts as we should, only tweaking little things that we saw necessary. She always played the one sending out a distress signal, and I was always the knight in shining armor, riding fair and far upon a horse that no one but myself could see. We never really had a villain, for we never really needed one. The story we fabricated was fine without someone coming and wrecking everything we had, for that wasn’t a story of fantasy; it was one of reality.
I suppose we stayed away from villains because they surrounded us on daily basis. They came in many forms, some of them not even human. Villains came in the drought that dried our lands and voided our cabinets of food, but they also came in the slips of paper that danced mercilessly in a crystal ball. Even though I often told Ally that I would never hesitate to take her place if the need arose, she always refused to hear it, and insisted that she would do the same for me. She didn’t understand that I had been playing the hero all these years for a reason, and that reason was to prepare myself for the time when I actually had to be brave, because now, it was easy, but it might not be so when I realize that our lives might actually be on the line.
”Ally, it’s my job to protect you. You realize that everything we’ve done, and everything I will do, is for you. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do; there’s no consequences I wouldn’t face if it meant keeping you safe.”
The tears streamed down both of our faces at this point, my eyes burning with the frustration that my efforts were to be put aside by her now wanting to be the one to make sacrifices. When we were younger, the roles always remained the same, I was the saver, and she was the saved. Now, things weren’t supposed to be any different. I was supposed to carry her over the fire and water that threatened to separate us, and I refused to let her pull her own weight. She couldn’t do it, and I thought we both knew it. It was my job—mine alone. We never broke eye contact at this point, each of us staring with intensity that matched the sun that beat down on our amber hair.
That had occurred just a few months ago, when the drought had only just begun to show the beginnings of its brutal regime. Now, we were still staring face to face, but the grasses that usually waved in the wind were replaced with golden soil that crumbled at the touch of tender fingers. There was something that lingered in the air between us, and I couldn’t put my finger on it. I had felt this tension linger around us for years, but I could never quite figure out what it was and why it hung around. Her hair hung loosely around her shoulders, and I lifted a hand to brush it back. I trembled as she moved away, her softer gaze meeting my harsher one. I pulled my own hair back before stammering over the only words I knew how to say, “Ally, it- it’s still my job to protect you. It doesn’t matter the situation, whether it’s real or pretend. It’s always going to be my job, and you can’t do anything to reverse the rolls. This is the way we’ve grown up, and it’s the way we’ll live. I don’t want you to change it, because if I couldn’t protect you I- I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.”
I shifted my eyes to the ground, unable to look her in the eyes for the first time in years. I was supposed to be strong, and I was being the exact opposite of that right now. As I felt a tear begin to fall down my cheek, I realized that maybe, just maybe, for once I was the one who needed saving.
T E M P L A T E B Y C H E L S E Y
