clang of the hammer//aza//blitz

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Steel thorns protect this rose from Two; but the world still passes me by slowly. This District is one plagued with tales of the deep dark. People are guided by a lust for riches and fortune, looking over the beauty of intelligence, education and friendliness. It is a tiresome place, Two, and sometimes I feel that I don't belong here. My grandmother used to tell stories of vast green pastures with borders of lilies and pansies. I think I'd like it there.

A place to call my own, a place to reign over.

But alas, Two is the place I call home. My grandmother also told me to make the best of my circumstances, no matter how bad they are. Words I live by, and words which build the path for me to follow. And with the thought, Two transforms into a place of wonder: there is beauty in the broken.

A small girl sits alone on a wooden bench. Her eyes drag her emotion to the ground. Perhaps this is what happens when one doesn't make the most of their circumstances—pitiful silence and weeping eyes. Steel thorns, my grandmother's words stop me from becoming one of the haunted.

I take a seat next to her, tilting my head in her direction.

"You're sad." I tell her. I'd always favoured analysing people over engaging in physical activities. "Don't be sad, there isn't enough time for it." 

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She cans her laughter. I don't understand it—time has worked against people for thousands of years. Sadness worms it's way into the hearts and minds of the vulnerable, festering on unthought thoughts, tainting them to force a person to feel at home when it rains. Perhaps this girl does not have the intellectual capacity to understand it.

Perhaps she's ignorant.

"I disagree. There's always time for sadness, it's what makes things happen." She is wrong. Sadness is a part of the wheel of life but it does not turn it, sadness does not trigger change. The turners of the wheels are ourselves, fate and the future are caught between our fingers.

"You're wrong." I say politely. "We are what makes things happen. Sadness stops us in our tracks." Grieving and depression are only obstacles to overcome, they should not be seen as a goal for the sake of pushing life along, just to watch sand fall from the hourglass. "If you want to make something happen, make it happen."

I run a hand through my hair, leaning forward slightly with a hope of looking her in the eye. My words come from my heart and my grandmother's—I mean what they say.

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The sound of Peacekeepers working like bees in front of us draws my attention. They work in unity and make a small production line in order to get the job done. They are rebuilding the stage, like they do every year, a stage that has stolen the lives of hundreds of people my age. I glance across to them; what made them chose this life?

Why choose red: pain and anger, when a blue life composed of justice, perseverance and vigilance is much simpler? It is beyond me. 

The thought frays when the girl speaks up again. 

"It's actually a bit more difficult than just wanting something to happen." I tilt my head, I really don't understand. "Yes, you need determination and will, and you need to want something to happen, but you need something negative also." She coughs a little, falling into a more natural state of speech. "You need sadness, or anger, or depression to fuel your goal."

"No." I tell her, straight up and simple. "Why fuel a goal with negativity, how is that motivational?" The girl's method seems to make a mountain out of a mole hill. You want change? Good, go and get it. Keep your chin up, your spirits high and you'll get it. Forcing oneself into a depressed state seems absurd. That is not progressive in any way, shape or form. Honestly, it is backwards.

"My grandmother told me to make the most of my circumstances. That's what I do, and I think you should too."

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A loud clang, a bang but I do not flinch or bat an eyelid towards the scene. My focus remains on understanding the confused female before me. And that's all she is, really, confused. One day, she'll understand where I'm coming from and will realise that positivity trumps a negative outlook. Greater things come from goodwill and a strong heart.

"I think you're misunderstanding me." Not really, I used your own words against you and you've confused yourself. "If nothing negative happens to you, you don't have a purpose or a goal. You can't strive for improvement." I cross my arms, arching a single brow as she speaks. I've always been one for educating the misinformed, though I think this one is too far gone. There's no saving a girl who wants to be depressed for the sake of it.

"I think I understand what your granny is trying to say--but it's hard to make something from nothing."

"That's what change is, it's hard. It's supposed to be." I look at her and shake my head slowly. There's no hope. "I don't think you'll ever understand it. What's your name?" My eyes roll. I'll make a mental note of her name so that I know to wrong her if she crosses my path again.