He's dead?*

Goddamn I was hating this.

I just stood there, not looking at Auntie, looking off over to the right cuz it ain’t like I was the officiator of the shit. It ain’t like I had written the death certificate. Hell, I didn’t even know the bastard. I’d barely met him before and I certainly hadn’t been there when he was buried. I didn’t know what to do or say to make her believe me; hell, the only evidence I got was the way Jiji had said it, the way her face was lined like sleep hadn’t found her in way too long. My Jiji ain’t a liar; that ain’t something you lie about, anyway.

* "He wasn't even there. He was a prisoner in the Basin when the invasion happened."*

Aw shit and here was the snap back, like I had been attacking her (and I’m not sure if I really had or not). I just snorted softly and shrugged. “He died trying to go back,” I said, remembering what Jiji had told me about the incident, “He heard his home was up in flames and he tried to get back to ‘em like he was supposed to…He wasn’t there, but the invasion got him killed.” I forced it out of me, those words, knowing it was gonna do some awful shit to Auntie and hating, hating, hating it, but it was shit that needed to be said cuz—

—cuz—

—I was starting to get sick of having to stomach the shit that happened. I was so sick of having to swallow it down and accept it like it was something natural, or normal, or right. There was an invasion and my whole family was in on it, and somehow they found a way to fight against each other. Great. Fucking great. How the hell do I fight that battle?

Looking back, I think that’s the moment I really gave up on trying to make sense of the shit. It was tiring, it was awful, and it was a weight that no one wanted to take away, that everyone needed to keep themselves grounded for some strange reason. So I…accepted it, and that’s the bubbling of sick in my stomach. I accepted that people died and I didn’t understand why. I accepted that it was gonna be a thing.

What had Auntie said to me just a few moments ago?

No... I'm not sick of you. I meant what I said. I do love you.

Welp. We’ll see how long that lasts.

A butterfly landed on my eye at that moment. Which was weird and I was gonna blow it away before I realized it was you, that you had zpsnk!ed when I wasn’t paying attention because you had felt that now was the time that I needed something supportive on my eye.

…Which helped, actually. Huh.






[I am the most awful of people]
"talk"