hayk shim, district 5. {fin}
Sept 23, 2016 17:09:45 GMT -5
Post by arctic on Sept 23, 2016 17:09:45 GMT -5
hayk shim
I look down at my shoes, staring at them for that quick moment in which I had painted an illusion that he was here. He must be working, or something. It's a breath that takes me out of that illusion, the beauty of whatever man had painted it to be. Memory? That must be it. I breathe - god knows that it hurts, it tastes horrible. The vile tar like substance sticks to my throat - the air? - and that shouldn't feel right. But it does. Should I feel that way? My throat clutches itself, clings to its walls and it seems to be closed. Frozen? No, that's not how it feels. It seems to be empty. Empty where it doesn't seem to have any knowledge of what it feels to swallow something. It's lost whatever sense of breath it has before.
Dry. Is it that?
I can't help but open my lips - as if I have anything smart to say - but nothing escapes. It's like I'm waiting. I've been waiting for a while for him to come home, [ i can't help but grasp at the crown on my head ], and it seems like it'd be far too long for him to return home. Or is it I that has yet to return to home? I haven't felt at home in the past two years - like something was missing [ but there shouldn't be anything I should miss, right?? ] - maybe it was I.
I was the one swept away, taken out of my kingdom and not to ever come home. Did they capture him, lock him up? I want to know where he is. Where is my king? I'm lost, I have nobody to listen to. What is a prince without his king to tell him the rights and wrongs of ruling such a kingdom like his? He had no leader. No resource to go off of, no man that could tell me about the tales of defending the kingdom from monsters and dragons. I had nobody to listen about all of the possibilities and rules that I must abide by.
I had myself, but limiting your own power is basically limiting the world's. Because you can change your own rules and powers at any time, just like a game of tag between a group of younger children. The rules never stay the same, they always change in favor of the ruler of those rules. My green eyes hover up for a moment - the smallest of moments, really - before I return them back down. My light brown hair lays upon my head in it's own manner. Not touched, almost free to do whatever it wished - I was fine with that. Not like there was a princess or prince that I had to impress.
I was free to be alone. But I didn't want to be alone. I wanted to be with him - but where was he? To Callixtus and Clementine and Rhonwen, he's just a dream. A figment of all of our imaginations that had just suddenly disappeared to some stupid boy from three. I wish I could be able to see him. No, not just that. Talk to him, I want to hear his stories. My small, 5'4" frame lay in my bed and just wait. I'm much smaller than a lot of the people in my family. I dislike it - but I take pride in it. I look much more like Luna than most of the other people in my family that I know. I like it. I feel like I have a part of Sol with me, the crown in hand, and I have a part of Luna with me. She didn't play a very important role in my life - I was only near 1 when she died, but I knew that she was important to Sol.
I've always grown up with the idea that everyone mattered. If you didn't care about what someone was doing, something was wrong with either the relationship you had with them and that you must fix it. I've followed that idea the best I can but it's just so hard to actually do it. I've never felt like people cared. How is that possible to feel when people care when there's nobody that shows that they cared to you? Callixtus abandoned me once Sol died. He stayed away from me for some reason - I have no clue why though. Is it because it can't stand me? It's hard to see that they care, it's hard to learn how to care when nobody is there that can do it for me.
I try every day to make it known that people matter, but as the days go on, it makes me feel like I matter less and less. Sol was the only person that made me matter. He would always sit down with me before bedtime, no matter his mood or how late it was. He would sit with me and tell me a story fresh from his mind. He always made sure he would, because I can't sleep without one. It felt amazing because he would always pause when he couldn't think of anything and ask me to help him.
So, that was my every day life. Was. He would be the reason I slept, the reason why I could conquer all of those nightmares that I found introducing themselves to me every night. I always could find myself standing up to those fears that I had because of those stories of heroes taking over their fears and conquering all of those demons. But, now that I lay in my bed, I always look up at the stars - or, the best I can out of the window placed on the wall next to my bed. I kneel in front of it and I always look up at the stars. I've picked a certain one and I've named it Luna.
I always look up to that exact spot, and I always see the same star. Not that stars look different or anything, I just use it as my resource to talking to her. Of course, Luna means the moon - but I don't mind. I like the stars, they're much more pretty. The moon is a sliver of the light that protects those who wander in the night. Sometimes that light shines me through my walks and it's nice. I can talk to her, and she can talk to me. I know it's like, impossible to talk to the dead, but I like telling her how my day went and how my life is going. It gives me hope, you know? It gives me hope that he's still here, he's still telling me his stories. But, I don't hear those stories. It took me a while to realize that I'm the story teller now - and he's passed the torch down to me.
My own story, my own prophecy. And the odd thing about that? Every prophecy has their own fall. I haven't fallen yet, so when does mine end?
Dry. Is it that?
I can't help but open my lips - as if I have anything smart to say - but nothing escapes. It's like I'm waiting. I've been waiting for a while for him to come home, [ i can't help but grasp at the crown on my head ], and it seems like it'd be far too long for him to return home. Or is it I that has yet to return to home? I haven't felt at home in the past two years - like something was missing [ but there shouldn't be anything I should miss, right?? ] - maybe it was I.
I was the one swept away, taken out of my kingdom and not to ever come home. Did they capture him, lock him up? I want to know where he is. Where is my king? I'm lost, I have nobody to listen to. What is a prince without his king to tell him the rights and wrongs of ruling such a kingdom like his? He had no leader. No resource to go off of, no man that could tell me about the tales of defending the kingdom from monsters and dragons. I had nobody to listen about all of the possibilities and rules that I must abide by.
I had myself, but limiting your own power is basically limiting the world's. Because you can change your own rules and powers at any time, just like a game of tag between a group of younger children. The rules never stay the same, they always change in favor of the ruler of those rules. My green eyes hover up for a moment - the smallest of moments, really - before I return them back down. My light brown hair lays upon my head in it's own manner. Not touched, almost free to do whatever it wished - I was fine with that. Not like there was a princess or prince that I had to impress.
I was free to be alone. But I didn't want to be alone. I wanted to be with him - but where was he? To Callixtus and Clementine and Rhonwen, he's just a dream. A figment of all of our imaginations that had just suddenly disappeared to some stupid boy from three. I wish I could be able to see him. No, not just that. Talk to him, I want to hear his stories. My small, 5'4" frame lay in my bed and just wait. I'm much smaller than a lot of the people in my family. I dislike it - but I take pride in it. I look much more like Luna than most of the other people in my family that I know. I like it. I feel like I have a part of Sol with me, the crown in hand, and I have a part of Luna with me. She didn't play a very important role in my life - I was only near 1 when she died, but I knew that she was important to Sol.
I've always grown up with the idea that everyone mattered. If you didn't care about what someone was doing, something was wrong with either the relationship you had with them and that you must fix it. I've followed that idea the best I can but it's just so hard to actually do it. I've never felt like people cared. How is that possible to feel when people care when there's nobody that shows that they cared to you? Callixtus abandoned me once Sol died. He stayed away from me for some reason - I have no clue why though. Is it because it can't stand me? It's hard to see that they care, it's hard to learn how to care when nobody is there that can do it for me.
I try every day to make it known that people matter, but as the days go on, it makes me feel like I matter less and less. Sol was the only person that made me matter. He would always sit down with me before bedtime, no matter his mood or how late it was. He would sit with me and tell me a story fresh from his mind. He always made sure he would, because I can't sleep without one. It felt amazing because he would always pause when he couldn't think of anything and ask me to help him.
So, that was my every day life. Was. He would be the reason I slept, the reason why I could conquer all of those nightmares that I found introducing themselves to me every night. I always could find myself standing up to those fears that I had because of those stories of heroes taking over their fears and conquering all of those demons. But, now that I lay in my bed, I always look up at the stars - or, the best I can out of the window placed on the wall next to my bed. I kneel in front of it and I always look up at the stars. I've picked a certain one and I've named it Luna.
I always look up to that exact spot, and I always see the same star. Not that stars look different or anything, I just use it as my resource to talking to her. Of course, Luna means the moon - but I don't mind. I like the stars, they're much more pretty. The moon is a sliver of the light that protects those who wander in the night. Sometimes that light shines me through my walks and it's nice. I can talk to her, and she can talk to me. I know it's like, impossible to talk to the dead, but I like telling her how my day went and how my life is going. It gives me hope, you know? It gives me hope that he's still here, he's still telling me his stories. But, I don't hear those stories. It took me a while to realize that I'm the story teller now - and he's passed the torch down to me.
My own story, my own prophecy. And the odd thing about that? Every prophecy has their own fall. I haven't fallen yet, so when does mine end?
