Back in the day, the last time I had come here, it had been because I was tired of running. Running--that was the type of shit I did back then. Just run and run and run until it made my brain fuzzy and numb, and after that run some more all the way until I couldn’t suck enough air into my chest even if I tried. I remember the freedom of running, too, and how good it made me feel, how awesome the wind in my mane was. Somewhere along the line the flying hooves gave way to flailing hooves and, now, the most relaxing thing to me was getting a new scar in my collection (it was coming along nicely).


Here I was, now. The sun was going down (this time) and even though there was still a little bit of gold sprayed between the oaks (that were still big as hell), it was fading, fading, fading fast. I wasn’t even winded (this time) as I stopped and leaned against the thick, solid bulk of a trunk, resting a shoulder against it, leaning on it, soaking in the smell of the forest, allowing the quiet of this huge-ass forest surround me, sedate me, wrap me in a blankie that protected me from all my worries for just a little while…


...Except no because I was a little older now, a little older and wiser and dumber all in the same run, at the same time, and my head knew better and my heart was getting calloused and the vague smell of a past that I had long since lost did nothing to me now but make that clenching ache in my chest clench even tighter than before. I didn’t even realize I sucked in my breath, that I was holding it for as long as I was--I didn’t feel it when I got dizzy, because, maybe, I was already drowning in a sense of vertigo.


The memories kept coming--faster and faster and faster and there was no way to stop them, so I just let them run through my head and stab me down and bite me and clobber me with their ideas, their implications--


(--no, no, no, no Jiji, don’t cry, don’t cry because I suck, I’m sorry, I’m sorry Ji--)


I sighed--or, at least, I would have, if I were breathing. The birds chirped around me and there was a breeze somewhere close that I couldn’t smell, and I was letting the memories do their job well and truly, and if I were letting myself breathe I would be able to smell the person I already knew was creeping up, like the shade of the past I was trying to hold onto (and let go)--


(“I owe everyone and their ma—even MY Ma—I owe—I OWE EVERY GOD DAMNED HORSE anything and everything I am and if it’s not enough—)


I was trying my damndest to suffocate myself, I’m sure--but the gasp was torn from me and I was forced to breathe and my chest started heaving, and after all that the pretense was done, the shallow game was over, and it was time to face...something.

“I know you’re there.”



@[Ranjiri]