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02-09-2016, 11:14 AM
The heart caves are not a place where I should be going on my own. This much was clear even before I stepped foot within them. The day, drawing into night, was cold and dark. I was far from home, the only light I could see was that of a fire. When I drew closer, was assaulted by the burning of flame, the danger of this excursion met me without mercy.
The flames were wild and deep, coming from the core of an earth I was tethered to only by thin threads. To move closer, to journey into the heart, was a sort of childish suicide that reason tugged on. This was not instinct, this was not intelligence, and yet still I stepped forward.
Now, as I walk, I feel those threads tugging. They jerk on my heels, twist around my spine and yank out of place vertebrae. I am pressed against myself, made into a contorted shadow as the light casts my useless image along the walls. My dapples catch fire, their silver glittering gold in this eerie light. I am walking slowly towards my doom.
As I step dangerously close to the pit I wonder about what it would be to fall into it, to slip and never return. Am I too young for such contemplation, too much of a child to consider death? No, I do not think so. Not with my only friend's body still in my mind, not with the taste of her blood still flooding my nostrils. I can smell only her death, can hear only my father's pain.
No, I am not too young for this.
I settle in the central cave, basking in a warmth that my dark coat eats hungrily and staring into the fire in my solitude. Alone as I am I stretch my jaw and test my voice, so aching and unused. "I..." I speak. "I... I... I..." but there is nothing to follow the stutter, the singular sound that is all I can produce after so long shutting my mouth. Is there really anything of worth in my body, are there any words I could say that could make up for the things I have lost? No, I can't imagine there are.
""
I am not sure if it is
BETTER OR WORSE
to know all that I do
BETTER OR WORSE
to know all that I do
