Rebellious Accomplishments {Dragon/Ichabod} Blitz

The ground is nothing but ice beneath my feet, and the feeling has travelled through the rest of my body with no time to spare. The destination in mind is near, and with shoulders pulled up and eyes turned down I continue my brisk pace.

The need for my presence is limited to one destination at any point in time, for I am not a girl of graced persona.

My brothers are much the same, but they are all teeth and swinging.

I am bitten tongue— sharp, biting, not afraid of the taste of blood. When I speak, I expect an audience, and I expect the silence to continue when I have birthed it into existence.

I am thinking my way through back alleys and how to promise the man at the back door a good time without actually giving it to him. I am pondering the possibility of sneaking the gun from his belt while distracting him with touch elsewhere. I am wondering if he is stupid enough to believe me, but I know in the back of my mind that he is.

My body is nothing more than a gun, and I know exactly how to make a man turn the barrel of it on himself and pull the trigger.

This is all that is on the mind until faded dialogue in a tone not familiar to myself reaches my ears. I turn my eyes upward and see a boy perched on the roof of a shed, all proud and not afraid of the consequences.

I smirk— he reminds me of my brother. He broke his arm doing much the same, and so I call out to him, “You know what happens to little boys who go places they shouldn’t, right?”

His grin stretches wider than I thought possible, and he takes the time to assure me that his place of presence is more than capable of supporting his weight. From where I sat, I can see the bend in the wood, the reminder that age does not always waltz with grace and beauty. From the rusty nails to the splintered wood, I knew that his naivety would soon give way from under him.

It was a lesson that was best learned alone, not taught by any outside, intervening force.

When I was thirteen, I had told my mother that I was going to rule the world one day, and she told me she was looking forward to it dearly.

I had taken this as untrammeled joy that was only one-step off the edge from being realized. It is only now, in the thicket of this, that I have realized her intelligence in letting me scale the mountain myself. It was vision on her part, not mine, to realize I must fall from the summit to the valley, shattering every bone in the process, to put this fantasy to rest.

A brilliant woman of this caliber lets others do the work for her, a woman of this caliber only raises the pen to sign the canvas.

When the boy in front of me tells me that he likes it up there, way up high in the bleak, grey sky, I am almost tempted to tell him that I think its pretty nice too.

But I have better things to do with my time, and so I tell him once more, “I really do think you should get down, that wood doesn’t look as stable from here as it might from where you are.”

Damn children these days.