you are { a l w a y s } here with me // Lilith standalone

you are { a l w a y s } here with me // Lilith standalone Nov 28, 2014 23:14:29 GMT -5

Post by Stare on Nov 28, 2014 23:14:29 GMT -5

caught in the riptide
i was searching for the truth
there was a reason
i collided into you

I loved him. Did he know that? Ripred, I hope he knew that. If I had ever taken the time to wonder if he didn’t, I would have told him every day. Every hour. Every minute. But the fact of the matter is that I didn’t. I saved those words like they were precious - (they’re not, not coming from my lips) - for scraped knees and nightmares and moments of darkness and despair, like they were candles that might bring hope to a hopeless place. They never did, and I knew that, but as my dead eyes watch his blood spill I regret every I love you I never gave him. They all deserve more than I can offer, and maybe that’s what makes it so painful.

I am mother who endlessly loves her children, even when they can’t love her back.

The death blow is especially recognizable on our new television screen, and among the chaos that erupts as a result I rise silently. These kids need me now and I know that, but suddenly I can’t even look at them. I can’t even think about them. I move toward the door without a word, without a backward glance, throat tight and hands shaking. There are flowers near the front door, thrown carelessly onto the floor, and I kick them aside harshly. On the table is an old blanket I was mending, one that’s practically patchwork, and I sling it over one arm before reaching forward and turning the knob, allowing myself to ignore even Ara’s wails. I don’t bother with a coat even though the autumn chill is harsh enough to carry my breath in little white clouds as I step outside.

Tears streaming soundlessly down my cheeks, I leave Sycamore for the first time since the Reaping.

calling your name in the midnight hour
reaching for you from the endless dream
so many miles between us now
but you are always here with me

The graveyard is an abandoned place, gray and bleak and made muddy by the recent rainstorm. There are leaves scattered amongst the headstones, ugly browns against the harsh shades of dying grass. The black iron wrought gate was broken a long time ago by a particularly angry windstorm and it swings open and shut uselessly as I pass through, fingers running over the damp metal. It takes me no time at all to find the grave I’m looking for. One hand reaches up to angrily brush away the tears, chest terrifyingly tight.

“Hey, sweetie,” I whisper even though I think she secretly hated it when I called her that. My voice is hoarse from the days I still spend in silence. I shift uncomfortably, the autumn winds blowing right through the thin fabric of my black dress, pressing the skirt against my bony knees. My hair has come loose from its traditional bun, tangles hanging awkwardly over my ears and in my eyes. After a moment of hesitation I lay the blanket down on the earth before the tombstone, spreading it out wide and smoothing the edges just like I did when she was little and wanted me to tuck her in at night. (Young children believe in the magic of dreams. I was spared that fantasy. To me, the darkness was always suffocating and promised hours of tears and nightmares.) “Your brother’s going to be coming home soon. He’s… he’s coming in a box.”

The damp earth seeps through my dress, chilling the skin of my legs. I draw back onto my shins and press my fingertips into the mud and leaves, seeking the numbing cold while my teeth begin to chatter. My strength fails me for a moment and a sob manages to work its way past my chest, echoing out against the stone and steel fencing. “He’s gone, Laila,” I whisper, tears slipping down my cheeks. “He’s really gone.”

nobody knows why
nobody knows how and
this feeling begins just like a spark
tossing and turning inside of your heart
exploding in the dark

After a moment I roll over so that my back presses back into the leaves, the chill seeping right into my bones. My fingers brush against the edge of the blanket, memorizing the pattern of the stitches while my eyes seek something in the endless gray sky. It’s going to rain soon. I should go back to the house where they undoubtedly need me, if only so that someone can listen to their screams about how unfair the world is. And I’ll pretend I’m strong even though I’m not, stroking hair and wrapping my arms around trembling forms. I know, love. I know.

“You’ll probably be seeing him again soon,” I say after a moment, closing my eyes against the world. “I was wondering if you could maybe do me a favor?” The wind rushes over me, sweeping my hair away from my face, carelessly passing over me as if I am just one more among the dead. Who knows? Maybe I am. “I… I want you to tell him that I am so proud of him. He was so strong. And I want him to know… to know that I’m s-so - I’m just - I’m s-so sorry.” My voice cracks as the tears press up against my throat, threatening to choke me. “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect him from it all, and I - I’m j-just sorry. And I love him. I love you both.” I see it in my mind’s eye - flowers on tombstones, two children dead before their time. White faces. Pale lips. Ripred, those were my children. I promised I would always keep them safe.

When I finally fall asleep in the graveyard, I find myself unafraid of the nightmares that await.

calling your name in the midnight hour
reaching for you from the endless dream
so many miles between us now
but you are always here with me