plot their demise | {hunter/scar}

hunter {♔} green

You could find a lot wrong with the Black mansion, if you looked close enough.

And this held true not only for the mansion in general, but even in the confines of my room mistakes abounded. For example, the baseboards showed the careless rearrangement of furniture, nicks and scratches characterizing the areas right behind the dressers and nightstands. They showed an anxiety that abounded in my own heart as well, for hours of relentless pacing and staring through the window would do me no good if there wasn’t a purpose to fuel it forward, and right now, sight set on bills as green as the name which tagged behind my first were the only driving fire.

But I wasn’t selfish, no, Hunter Green was never selfish.

If anything I was the opposite, and my sister was proof enough.

For this entire journey (I would not call it an adventure, for that entailed a destination that one would deem enjoyable, and this didn’t quite seem to be the case) was for my sister and mother, to further their well-being and save them from being buried in the tasteless ground on which we walked. There was not a selfish bone in my body, save for the fact that’d I’d kill for my mother and sister without a moment’s hesitation, and I wanted to hand them the world, with no furthering from anyone else. No, heroes did not consider themselves selfish when they wanted to save humanity, so why should I do the same?

I’m a hero on my own terms, and that’s not selfish in the slightest.

But the heroism in my heart did not nullify the fact that I was still pacing about the room with thoughts racing through my mind, and the sight of these four walls alone could drive a man to insanity in virtually no time at all.

So with the thoughts of saving my sanity I leave the scratched baseboards and scuffed cabinet corners, and instead break for the fresh air that falls from the night sky and relieves my heart in the same way rain saves a parched desert. It was nothing short of magnificent, and neither did the moon fall short on this night, with the sky almost pitch black, not a star to be seen. But the moon shone bright, and that was really all that was needed, for this dark world was never dependent on a singular street light to keep it illuminated, but rather fell back upon the moon that lit up the countryside, and when you wandered far enough away from the Black mansion, you could achieve the same affect.

It was this same moonlit sky that led me along the shores, kicking sand up with every step as the change of pace settled in.

There were no scratched baseboards to show imperfections here, and that in itself was worth the crisp, night air that bit at my skin.

There were no imperfections to be found in a natural world.

But then again, the girl sitting at the mercy of the waves didn’t constitute an untouched world, but then again, I was an intruder upon the same soil.

Scar, I believe it was, and oh how fitting, for that’s all we were as humans—scars upon flesh that should remained unmarked, yet we remain determined to fix what’s not broken. She and I were the scratches upon scuffed baseboards, yet I would never consider us the same.

“You know, there’s a full moon out tonight.”

And indeed there was, but there was also a sky lacking stars, a world lost in seamless rotation, and a mind which couldn’t stop wandering even if it was so inclined.