Why?

Why am I so easily shattered (I love how easy it is to break you), so easily broken by my own hand? Why do I let myself become victim to irrational feelings? I let myself down, I crush myself under the consequences of my actions, under my expectations, letting my useless hopes and dreams sink to my feet where I will not pick them up. Perhaps one day I will bother to look down at them, to realize that I had wanted a future, that I wanted happiness. But I would never get it, I would never achieve any of my dreams, I had let them drop and slip from my grasp as soon as my mind broke. They slipped through my fingers like a handful of sand, pouring down onto the earth beneath me and blowing away in the wind where I could not get to them. Chasing such foolish things was something I learned was pointless, that I'd rather be a purposeless spectator than someone who was determined to do something I never would, that I never could. Even if I had tried, I was never set up to have a good life. 

It was an obvious fact, that as soon as I was born I was destined to fall. I was born with death, for in its wake I sprang weak and unsure, and that was it. There was no helping me. 

But I realized, looking back on it now, that Sia was persistent. She did not give up on me, her constant concern for my well being had always been obvious. I know how ungrateful I was, how selfish and unkind I was. I had never thought for a second anyone could have truly loved me, that those who did were already long dead. Burnt and swept up by the constantly changing tides, my past had been stolen all too early, when I was still fragile and impressionable. And I'd broken myself, punished myself over and over (Stupid, stupid! Idiot, fucking idiot!) until I was just something at your feet to disregard. I'd put myself in this position, and Sia had always been trying to get me out.  

Fucking idiot.

Everything stiffens, every fiber of my being, every hair in the wind, even my tears, have all stopped dead. I am paralyzed in every sense of the word, not even my heart dares to move. I stay like that for what could have been minutes, hours, days, maybe years. It's like the world wants to continue to move around me, to grow and flourish while I am frozen in this moment. I feel the bitterness of the elements against my body, the chill of snow against my spine, the frigid tears the clouds spill out across my back, and finally I felt blossoming flowers at my hooves, grass tickling my ankles and sunlight against my shoulders. I felt birds perch atop my crest, felt predators stalk past under the moon's harsh light and their prey flee into the shadows. I saw the cracks in the earth spread beneath me, watched shadows slither from these crevices, watched sunlight shatter the silence of night each dawn, watched the shadows take the earth back during dusk, the stars dancing ritualistically in celebration. I blink.

One. 

I fall apart at the inhale of a single breath, held for eons in my tormented lungs. It leaves my lips like a secret would, hesitant and subtle with fear of being intercepted. I am torn apart at the seams, bleeding with emotions I'd never experienced or even thought I could experience. I feel gentle hands tentatively caressing the curve of my cheek, the reassurance of someone familiar pushing me back to Sia, back out of my head and into what was real, what was happening. 

Two.

I feel everything getting expelled, everything getting torn from my walls, every picture, every memory, everything I'd spent time on trying to protect myself from the outside world. She was tearing it all down, throwing it all on the floor with the power behind her words. I was a trembling mess, a cowering child in a corner witnessing someone equally as hurt tear down my walls. With her hands the drywall crumbled, the insulation shredded, and the frame splintered. She was there, face to face with me with bloody hands and a messy appearance, rugged and still all grace. And I had no choice but to face her with my blood caked wounds and tear stained face. 

I look at her, I look at her and I tremble and choke and cry. I have been crying, but this was something more. Somehow the tears falling from my face now meant more than they had every night I sobbed for my misfortune, for every moment I spent crying over my mother and father and my loneliness. These tears were genuine, they were raw and beautiful and I was broken. I was a shivering mess with blood on my hands and shards in my wounds. I was damaged and messy but I was here. For once I was present and aware, I was feeling. 

I don't know whether to smile or scrunch my face up and let my snot run and my tears overflow in the same manner as an over emotional child. I don't know what to do because I'm relieved, I'm actually relieved. And even if it's for just a moment, it's wonderful.

Three.


I feel ethereal, like I could close my eyes and get stolen away by the wind. Like I could float steadily over the Throat, over the ocean and through the clouds, that if I tried perhaps I could go beyond just that. I am weightless but heavy all the same, dragged down by my mortal heart that so easily slows me down, denying my dream. But still, I feel myself ghost over to Sia, feel the heat of her skin and feel my lips slide along it, the touch was tender and passionate and filled with all the words I could never find. It was loving and chaste, it was healing and comforting yet overwhelmingly powerful. It spoke in ways I never could, in ways I prayed Sia could understand. 

I blinked, amber refocusing on Sia, who was still there before me, still miles away from me. I feel my heart wrench, chords straining against the stress of my emotional ruin. Columns and roofs, windows and walls, all crumbling apart at how much I longed to touch her. I wanted to show her that I could be gentle and loving, that although I had confessed to being a monster, that was not who I was. It was who they were.

Nothing else matters anymore, not the Skinwalker with their daunting cheshire smile and savage need to tear me apart like some lurking vulture, not the crowded voices pleading for attention, not the mysterious knowledge of murder or battle or other lands' gods. It was insignificant in comparison to the words tumbling from feeble lips, it was all so irrelevant compared to what Sia had to say.

"Thank you— thank you, thank you, thank you, Sia." It spilled out in one sting of words, not even a gasp of air in between as I smile up at her with pure, heartfelt adoration and— love. I love her. It was uncertain at first, I assumed it was love like the way you love your best friend, but no. It was total, unconditional love that traversed the binds of friendship, going above and beyond. I felt it warm in my gut, the weight of my feelings and unspoken words pushing away rationality and reason as I let myself spill out before her, letting her pick apart what I said and taking only what she wanted. "You're the only one, Sia. Everyone else has left, they've all left and they're not coming back. But you— you've always stayed, you've al-always been here. A-and I cannot say enough how tha-nkful I am." I was mumbling and stuttering and disastrous, but I spoke truthfully. Would she know?

Four.

It happens, it happens and my heart races and my lip quivers and I am terrified. Not even the monsters dancing in the edges of my vision can compare to the utter horror I feel welling as I stand open and vulnerable for Sia to look at. I was up for display with my organs exposed, hanging out for flies to buzz around and maggots to infect, for eyes to wander over my pitiful self and then away with new found disgust. 

She cried, she is crying. There are tears in those sparkling blue eyes of hers, tears and despair and I am following suit. Each time she says my name I think it will be the last, that I will just have to savour those last sweet syllables from her lips for the rest of my mundane existence. But what follows is a string of apologies, sewn together with trembling fingers donned in thimbles from the previous mistakes, all the pokes present on the working hands. I moved forward in overwhelmingly large strides, closing the distance between us and praying Sia would not flinch or move back. I'm so close, closer than I had been for a long time. I want to bury my face into her mane and tell her everything, drag her deeper into the darkness of my confessions. But now is not the time. 

Shatter.

I reach to brush at her cheek, to push away the tears that so eagerly fell from her cerulean eyes. I wanted to kiss them away, to replace each tear with a kiss tender and welcoming, to show that I was here. I wanted to kiss away her scars, her frowns, and her pain. If I had to deal with the heavy burden, I would do it. I would do anything for her. I wanted to make it all better for her, to guide her hand in hand to a paradise we had both only dreamed of, to a place where all this pain did not— could not— exist. 

If only. 

I move to wrap my neck around what was accessible of hers, hushing and cooing while she cried. I forgot about my own tears, concerned only for hers now. My tears became insignificant stains upon my cheeks as I caressed her, voice quiet and unsteady. "It's okay, Sia. It's okay. There's no need to apologize— it will be okay. Don't be scared, don't think you need to be sorry, it is not your fault. I'm here." It all comes out, slow and sweet while I bring up my wings, trying to reach towards the warm body before me to hold her even closer. I wanted her to be as close as she could, to make her feel welcomed by my stench ridden body while I tried to calm her. 

I hear her, I hear her words and I muffle a wail of my own. She was offering out a hand, a hand wracked in tremors but a hand none the less. And I was going to take it, I was going to soil it and she was going to regret ever lying with me and sharing stories of her ancestors back when we still didn't know how heartlessly cruel the world could be. I was going to take her hand and I was going to do my own regretting, I was going to regret dragging her into this mess that I should've been dealing with, that she shouldn't be involved in. 

Selfish.

I'm trying not to cry with my head against her neck, but with each word she speaks it grows harder. I'm sobbing and it hurts because my body is fatigued and my eyes sting, but I cry anyway. I push my face further into the soft skin of someone so familiar, exhaling hastily and inhaling sharply as I tried to find something, to grasp at the concept of words. "I'll stay—" I manage, huffing and puffing and feeling my chest shudder against her own. "I'll stay here with you, I- I'll try to be useful here—" I close my eyes and think for a moment, hey, maybe it will all work out. How funny. 

"I'm here now, I'm here and I'll be with you— I'll be here for you and for Zhu." I wanted to tell her that I would carry her burdens, her problems and her sorrows on my back if she so wished. Even if it broke my back I would still push on, I would drag my body and take what weight she had carried and pile it atop my own. I would devote myself to her happiness, to her safety and satisfaction. She could protest all she wished but it would be of no help. I will shoulder your burdens, your sorrows, your guilt and your secrets, I will wipe away your tears and protect everything you hold so dear— I swear.