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07-20-2014, 04:14 PM
To my surprise, the ice girl does not speak out. I do not look at her, so I do not know what is on her face - is she afraid, like I am? Or is she anxious? Curious? Hopeful? What lies in her past that she finds herself so eager to delve into once more, to explore in hopes of finding something more, something that wasn't there the first time, something that will make her pain more bearable, something that will make her present more logical, something... anything... And what am I hoping for, as I wait in a tense silence, searching my half-sister's blank visage with anxious eyes, looking for some clue in the lines of her face about who wants to contact me from the other side. I wonder if she is lucid - if she will remember this later. I wonder if I want her to. Whatever I expected, it wasn't to hear his voice, to see his colour. i am unprepared for the assault on my emotions, the bruises to my ego, as he mocks me and my work, my unwillingness to fight, my desire to heal - and despite the defiant anger that raises its ugly head in my mind, if I were to be truly honest, I would have to admit that it is only a mask, a facade to defend myself against the biting guilt, the knowledge that I will never be what he wanted me to be. Even in death, I disappoint him - and as much as I wish I didn't, I care. And it hurts. Schwere, I think. Father. I want to apologize, but some fierce pride, some remnant of my mother's teachings, gives me the strength to stand tall, to betray no emotion. No sooner have I thought of her than she appears, silent and light, a gentle, rosy hue that lends me support, as she always has. You do not need his approval, she seems to say, reaching out to me as though to brush my cheek with the soft skin of her muzzle. She cannot truly touch me, but I seem to feel her all the same. His dark green mingles in my mind with her pink, and the wrongness of it all overwhelms me. "Ich bin nicht schwach," I tell him, my vocals cold and distant. "But my kraft was never enough for you, was it, Vater?" I feel the curling of my lip, the sneer that takes over my visage, but distantly, as though I am only watching myself. I am not weak. Am I? "Talk talk talk." [Ich bin nicht schwach. :: I am not weak.] [kraft :: strength] |
