Unchained Privilege

“Lucius, quit. It!”

He continued to read a book on the dazzlingly white couch in his library as she continued to transform into her devilish side.  Things haven’t been the best in the house as of late, and they both knew it, and they both despised it.  For the first time, Lucius was in the wrong.

“Why should I? I didn’t do anything wrong.  I just spoke my mind and I am entitled to do so, don’t you think?”

“Never, should you ever say that to me.”

“I’m not a child…” he scoffed before lowering his glasses before she snatched them, broke them in half like twigs, and chucked them into the trash–this time she actually made it into the basket.  He was absolutely appalled.

“They’re fake, darling.”

“They were given to me by you…” he smirked as to invite her to a heated discussion.

“And you can tell how much time I spent making them…”

“And you can tell how much I really do wear them…”

They continued to banter until a brooding man with blond hair and freckles everywhere stood in the door frame and waited patiently with an acquiescent manner.  They both stopped simultaneously and whipped their heads to him.  Of course, as always, the vocal one took it upon herself to walk over there slowly and in a not-so-inviting manner.

“Yo–pepperoni face–what possessed you to arrive late?”

“Um… Miss… I came to give you this.” he abruptly handed her a stiff, pastel blue envelope.  She noticed his soft handle on it as she ripped it from his hands.  Her eyes surveyed him and his submissive behavior before scoffing and letting her eyes raid the document.  She threw it back at him and waved him to go.

“What was that for”

“Shut the hell up.”

“Really?  This is quite immature of you…”

There was a silence.  During, they both had heavy breathing yet tried to keep a good front.  Lucius’s hands rubbed against the paper allowing the perspiration on his palms to slide to and fro on the pages of his book he stopped reading a while ago.  In this moment of nothingness, all of their anger turned to dust.

“I just wanted you to think of me.  That’s all.” he finally stated.

“You don’t go about expressing that by communicating that I’m a desperate whore.” There it went.  The blurred vision came back and the both of them kept their magnificent front on for the other.  The stares shared between them made the angels cry as they finally stood in the same room without yelling for a few minutes.

“What was your reason, if I may ask of you, sister.”

“I was pushed so far to the point I no longer cared.”

Both of them continued to try, but they both whipped their faces away from each other.  Both of them had a single tear that dropped from a single eye.  This tear was built up and the sheer emotion they poured from that single tear was heart-wrenching.  That tear had so much passion in it that it hardly touched skin on their cheek.  This tear, for Lucius, fell almost right to the inner part of his knee where he allowed to separate away from the other while sitting; it swayed to the side when he turned where the sole of his foot almost touched his inner right thigh.  For Amaris Adonai, it fell straight to the floor along with all the rest of her sanity and confidence.  This moment changed the both of them indefinitely.  They could no longer hold it together and silently suffered the choking agony of their despair.  The terrible twos became a pathetic one in an instant, but they will never regain the love they once shared.  Too much has happened and they both know it.  Lucius is fully aware of his desperate attempt to satisfy his hidden ego he usually “keeps at bay”.  Amaris is finally able to conquer her real emotions and to understand what to do with them.  Her mommy issues and his daddy issues no longer mattered.  They have now fallen.  What once they thought was embers is now suffocating, dry smoke clouding their vision of the future. 

“What are you thinking?” his voice was lower and shakier than usual.  His face still wasn’t faced towards hers.

“I have the unchained privilege of finally walking away…” she stared blankly at the door frame.

“And why might you wish to do so?”

“To be free.”

“I see…” his eyes shut and two tears came down on his left cheek and three on his right like a waterfall.  She waited there for a few minutes.  There was a silence that was thick enough to engulf her in a sort of darkness.  She reminisced a dreamscape of what it once was and what the future could have held for them.  Everything involved laughing and unison.  They don’t share that anymore.  They can’t possibly share that.  She has finally had enough.  He has orchestrated this behavior by letting it go.  She was unaware of herself and so was he.  In the interest of saving her, he has proved to have pushed her into danger.  He was her rock–always has been.  He was the lonely boy in the hallway who used to draw pictures to relay his thoughts.  These pictures were so eloquent, yet delicate. Her vision focused on one bright spring day:

‘What is this drawing, Lucius?’

‘It’s terrible isn’t it… I’m not yet done…’

‘No!  It’s so… delicate… what does this piece describe?’

In her vision, she remembered seeing his proud and lively eyes–they could have screamed what he said in response:

‘This is you.’

Her consciousness shifted back and she had hoped he was gone.  Unfortunately, when she looked behind her, she saw him in the same fixed position.  This time, she didn’t give in to the torture.  This time, she opened her broken wings and attempted to fly anyway.

“Let’s not allow this to happen again in our next life.”

One step at-a-time, she flapped her wings.  One step at-a-time, she regained her freedom through that door that once caged her.  One step at-a-time, she released all the pent up anger from the years prior.  She started to smile because he was finally silent–she finally conquered the beast.  To her original dismay, she first noticed then accepted his comforting response as if it was a gentle breeze helping her gain the lift to fly with her battered wings:

“Forever and always, sister.”

 

Warrior Wren

Warrior Wren

Wren was bullied her entire life. People thought it was idiotic for her warrior parents to name their war child after a meek bird. Through their ridicule, she passed every day with tears, but never let anyone see her in despair. She was a child of war, yes, but that doesn’t discredit her being a living being with feelings. Her childhood and adolescence was filled with horror from her classmates and “friends”.

Until she became a young adult.

Her life consisted of preparing for what seemed like a war that was never going to begin. Her skin was battered and scarred, her hair was stringy and thin, and her muscles always ached profusely. Despite the agony, she pushed through—just like with the bullies. People continued to ridicule her for her imperfections, but she kept doing her practices and trekking through difficult areas to train herself about direction and swiftness.

Everyone else continued their training and boasted about how they hadn’t acquired a scar, and their hair is still beautiful with long locks and moisture, and how they looked marvelous as if they were gods and goddesses. While they kept at it, she listened, but her mind stood still as she knew her purpose. Their words became invisible things that went through one ear and out the other.

This bothered the people. They wanted to see her fail and be exiled from the town. Their jealousy became so strong that they made this their daily routine, and their goal was only to make her fall. Thank goodness, thank God itself, she only prevailed.

Although, the others did not see her performance. They only saw her exhausted and beaten down. They were never able to see the impossible things she accomplished. So, with their ruthless thoughts, they told her how she will never be able to defend herself or anyone else. They attacked her capability to be a warrior. They said she will get tired from a light hike into the mountains and get lost in the forests. Through their laughter, she turned around and walked away. She heard their distant boasting: If a wolf were to attack us, I would totally be able to fight against it. Said one man. Yeah! And if a lion were to roar, I’d reach through its throat and pull out its vocal chords! Said one woman. Another man shouted, Uh huh! And if a bear AND a tiger were to come around, I’d tie ‘em together and hang them from a tree! Finally, a woman exclaimed proudly, But most importantly, I would never be afraid!

Soon, a lion, wolf, tiger, and a bear all appeared. The people panicked and screamed. The other warriors stood stable and gawked at the monstrosity. They feared God had made their stories come true. They didn’t know anything about fighting animals. They were only trained on humans! What were they to do! In their minds, they were grateful Wren wasn’t there to see this. But where was she?

“Look for her! She can’t see this!’

“Where would she be?”

“I don’t know, does it matter? Just see if you can spot her!”

“Why are we worried about her when we have monsters in our town killing people?”

“SHUT UP!”

“NO, YOU SHUT UP!”

“AH! I can’t stand this anymore I’m retreating. I didn’t say anything—I didn’t ask for this…”

“Fine! Go we don’t care!”

“Seriously what are we to do with this situation… Maybe we should seek Wren’s help.”

Besides the horrific noise around them, it became silent. They froze in deep thought. They couldn’t let this happen. But what about what they said before in front of her? They can’t let her see them this distraught and clueless, but they had no choice. Even though they recognized it, they decided it wasn’t worth risking their reputation, so they each together tried to battle with the animals.

Warrior Wren stood atop a house she was guarding for the people of the town. Its roof was made of dry twigs and mud. The mud cooled her feet and soothed her. More people were racing towards her shelter. She knew this was going to happen. She shook her head in disappointment as she watched these “warriors” try to defend against the monsters. Warrior one, who claimed he would rip the lion’s vocal chords out, was playing tug-a-war with the lion with his battle ax; the lion won as it whipped him up and threw him behind. Warrior two, the one who claimed to tie both the tiger and the bear together and hang it, was climbing a nearby tree to attempt an escape route.  Warrior three, the one who claimed to be able to fight against a wolf, was being chased by one with terror in the eyes. And the last warrior, the one who claimed to never be fearful, was crying as she ran towards her begging for her to help them.

“Please! We are sorry about what we did! Please forgive us! We were idiots before! And some of us were just kidding, Wren. You have a beautiful name!” She turned around and gasped at the scene and turned back to continue: “But most importantly, we need you, Wren. We need your skills and intellect!”

Wren wasn’t persuaded or convinced. Although, it was her purpose to save all. She jumped down and walked with such tranquility. The woman walked in awe beside her. And she felt a wild combination of safety and fear as she looked at Wren who stood amongst the chaos.

She just stood there assessing everything, but standing her ground. This right here was what she trained for. These living, wild beings were the ones she trained with. She knew all along of this happening and attempted to stop it in advance. Obviously, it didn’t work. And she knew why. It’s because she realized you cannot tame living beings. You can only prepare yourself for success.

First, the tiger and the bear saw her and began to inquire of her presence. They started to carefully walk over to her. The wolf saw, and followed with a salivating mouth. Then, the lion recognized his army was distracted, but didn’t follow. Like Wren, the lion is the leader. She was the head of the warriors, and he was the head of the animal kingdom. Alpha to alpha, they stared, but he continued to torment the others.

She, a meek, little Wren of a woman, still battered and torn physically, was soon eye-to-eye with this beast. The lion’s breath reeked of his dinner from a couple days prior, and his eyes grew wild. Little did he know about the wild within her.

The bear, tiger, and wolf all sneaked around her sniffing the ground beneath her feet and glancing her up and down—assessing her if you will—as the lion recognized her beauty.

Yes, she was ugly on the outside because of what she has been through. He has seen it all happen and so have his accomplices. Unlike her fellow warriors, the lion, tiger, bear, and wolf have witnessed her transformation into this wild woman who controlled her every thought and decision.

The warriors were confused at first, but then it hit them like a brick. A true warrior doesn’t shed blood, but energy. There is no need for fights and threats. The skill is truly not in the muscle, but in the thought and motivation. They, collectively with the lion’s accomplices, noticed she had finally become wilder than the beasts surrounding her, and abundantly stronger than the people who have tried to bring her down.

A true warrior, yes, but most importantly, she is Wren. She is an agile, wonderful, peaceful woman—a successful and complete human being. She is part of Animalia just like everyone else. Her extravagant, addictive, wilderness in her heart was finally noticed.

A Wren she was, a warrior she has become, but forever a living, breathing being.

Treasured Memory

This is one journey I hope we both never forget.

I’ve had the pleasure of becoming acclimated to you for about eight years. My undoubted exfixiation continues. It forever will.

You’ve always been the one person I could never tame. For my entire life, I’ve been a free spirit caged by the fear of the unknown. Your wild child spirit has freed me and now I am just as untameable as you! Although, with my background, I have a limit. You don’t.

Limit. The limit doesn’t exist. The limit is intangible. There never was a limit. I realize such things when I sit in my room contemplating why things turned out the way they did. When I realize something, my muscles contract, my jaw clenches, and the blood within my veins freeze.

There is no answer.

The time kept ticking away giving countless opportunities for us to finally get it right, but we refused. The lion and the water bearer have finally separated–indefinitely now. Or not? Or yes? That’s the tricky thing about time. You never truly know what will transpire until it’s coming after you. If I had a dollar every time that has happened to me in our friendship, I could purchase the entire world.

I don’t want things to end this way. I miss you, but the one thing I can’t handle is your frantic obsession with hypocrisy. You can’t tell me one thing and then do another. I may not be much of a gossiper, but there are people all around me. Many of which whom have befriended you. Did you really think I wouldn’t find everything out? I thought we both established that we aren’t imbeciles. Apparently, someone lied…

Let’s agree to never let the dumbfoundedness overcome us. The world isn’t ready for my best friend and I. We are too contumacious. People can’t handle the purity of what we offer them–especially together. For now, let’s finally settle down in our lives. Maybe one day the world will be prepared, but for now, consider us a treasured memory.

The Inevitable Truth

He walked up the stage with a churning stomach and a racing mind. What if they don’t appreciate what he has to say? What if they laugh and boo him off? What if he moves no one and becomes one of those laughing stalks? 

He prepared for this moment his entire life—days for the speech alone. He wasn’t ready to submit his opportunity that easily. With bright lights shining on him, he saw hardly anyone at first, but then his eyes adjusted and his heart pumped before beginning:

“To carry on with something means you’re not afraid of what’s to come. You can anticipate anything, but ideally you turn your head and focus on your path. This path is your life of enlightenment of this imperative self you call who you are.” His voice began to tremble as his words flew out of his mouth like spitfire. 

“Many of us aren’t truly aware of this person, so we blame and accuse hoping it will all dissipate on its own. We never truly realize everything we ever need is within our Self.” Within the beginning of his speech to a large, doubtful audience, he heard some chuckles in the crowd near the front. These individuals were smiling and watched him with unimpressed eyes. He became enraged and placed his paper down on the podium. This paper is a product of three days of work and $100 worth of editing. He looked at the few in the front and then glanced at everyone else. 

“Who are you fighting against? Really, who in this damn world gives a shit?” He realized the people were now wide-eyed and taken aback, but he continued wildly like it was God himself speaking through him: “Why should they care about the steps you’ve taken and the obstacles you’ve defied? They are on the same path as you. We are all on this exact path or straying away; it’s a dog-eat-dog world because of it. No they certainly do not think about you the way you do about them because they are racing you in this game called LIFE. It is only your job to satisfy you—never forget that!” His veins burned as the fire writhed within him causing his adrenaline to kick in. With the shaking sensation to continue on, he walked closer to the edge of the stage. He glared at the doubters from before. 

“And if you merely believe that your heart is pure and your intentions are well, then think again. Within every right there have been wrongs. You can get poisoned from food that’s supposed to sustain your “impeccable” life. If you have a horse, then dismount from it once in a while. You are amongst brothers and sisters who are here for a reason, which is still not to please your dreadful Ego!” ” He walked to the left of the stage and faced the other half of the audience. 

“If you can’t handle the way someone is mistreating you… let. Them. GO. Who you surround yourself with is who you become, so be wary of the individuals you keep close. They can one minute be your living savior, and then another be a repugnant nightmare. Although, the only person responsible for it is you, because only you can allow it to destruct. Take a breather from this undying war and take some goddam responsibility for your decisions. If you don’t want to admit your wrongs, then forbid yourself from committing them. It’s just that easy.” He closed his eyes and thought to himself he needed to close this out before the audience becomes outraged. 

“If you have a problem, then address it like an adult! This doesn’t mean you copy the way I speak to you today; take your dignity and let it shine through your words. Treat the other person how you would want to be confronted or spoken to. This ‘you did this’ and ‘but you did that’ is pathetic! If someone doesn’t speak to you about something, then that is a complete reflection of your incompetency to accept opinions and feelings other than your own! Don’t make me come up here and do this again. I’ve already made a dent in my professional life by saying this.” His words were like projectile vomit pouring out his mouth in chunks. 

He closed out with a ‘thank you’ and scurried off the  stage. He was expecting something similar to tomatoes being thrown at him, but that would have happened before his closing—why didn’t that happen? Amazed, he ran back up to the stage and gawked at the audience in pure awe. A sudden roar of applause and whistling invaded the area. The claps sounded like celebratory fireworks. 

Was this it? Was this speech really the one thing that made him an utter success? He wasn’t ready to complain, so he reeled in the benefits. The best thing to ever happen to him sprouted from an unprepared conversational bomb that just happened to be what the world needed. 

Tampered Dreamscape

He fixed his posture a she scrambled to find the words to tell her. Her lips curled up and exposed her teeth—he adored her smile.

Tink! Of all the possible moments for his glasses to fall, this had to be the one. He swiftly bent and picked them up. The black, cold sand covered the surface of the lenses. He nervously chuckled as he took his grey sweater and gently cleanser the surface ; the granules created microscopic scratches. The two nervously came closer together to the point their visible breath hit against each of their faces. He looked at her as he carefully wiped a single thick strand of hair off her tan face. He was amazed at how perfectly different their skin pigments were—pale and tan. It was almost like yin and yang. Despite her skin color, her eyes were greyer than the dreadfully cloudy sky and the dark, eerie sea. From gazing into her eyes, he remembered their first encounter together—on that exact beach. The wicked wind whipped both their hair around wildly as if it wanted to bully them. The wind pushed and pulled at his hair like his emotions tugged at his heart. Finally, after noticing her impatience, he mustured the courage to say the one thing he was craving to say. Before doing that, he wiped his hands off and drew in a deep breath and stared at her with fire in his eyes.

The cold breeze invaded the inside of her jacket, so she began to shiver. Her nose turned red from their walk on the beach, and she once again smiled. He feverishly took off his black jacket to put on her, but it fell to the sand. Shit! Pick it up and just SAY IT! 

Her giggle hijacked his entire body and ripped at his heart—if she denies, this will be the end of him. He dusted off the jacket and gestures to her if shebstill wanted it. Nodding her head, she giggled once again.

He attempted to reach into what would have been his jacket pocket. NO! Nothing could be worse than this. He watched as she turned to the sea and began to place her hands in the pockets. Despite the freezing coldness, he began to prespire. He wanted to stop her, but it was useless. He bent down on his knee and prayed it would go well as he worriedly looked at her. She felt around and opened up a pure white box with a diamond only fit for a queen.

Turning around, she couldn’t contain her emotions. Nothing was said. They both just hugged and kissed one another for minutes on end. Oh, he was delighted to find out she reacted the way she did. His life was complete now. Nothing can falter his happiness for the rest of his life.

The two of them enjoyed themselves as they enjoyed their tampered dreamscape. Almost everything went wrong, but their perfect forever still began at that moment.

Wasted Moonlight

Greg loved the color of his dearest Ginnae’s eyes that paired perfectly with her yellow, glowing skin. With his strong arms, he embraced her in a warm gesture of love in which she refused. He swore he felt his heart crack. 

“In this wretched world, I promise to never let you live unloved.” His mind was hopeful as she cringed. 

“Ok..?” She seemed unsure. 

“What? Ginmae I love you… will that ever be enough?” His wildling eyebrows pushed together. 

“Yes…”

He awaited her response, but nothing followed. She stood there like an idiot not even trying to contemplate an explanation. She didn’t even attempt to be kinder than who she was in that moment. 

With thumps in his chest hollowing out and tapping lightly against his sternum, he waiting breathless for her to respond. Both of them stood there silent as the moon guided their eyes towards each other. 

Then, Greg glanced at the sky in search for this higher power who seems to drug his chosen disciples. He searched amongst the faint starlight and was disappointed. Greg finally spoke once again while still glancing up:

“You know… I have become quite accompanied by this starlight. They always seem to show up. If not the same ones, different stars replace them.”

“Yes? And?”

He looked at her in disbelief. How could she be immune to this feeling that’s killing him from the inside out? Each second she ripped from him, a layer of his soul was shed and disintegrated. 

“The moon always listens to my cries.” His brooding eyes punctured hers. She finally revealed some emotion. “Every night I know it’s there and it listens to my stories in my head. So, whenever I feel down, I just look up…” an unexpected smile shone on his face while she stood there idiotically perplexed. 

“Would you care to know what the moon tells me?” He asked while her face showed uncomfortability, but she nodded. “It says to me: ‘and this particular woman is who you have chosen.’” 

Her eyes lit up and a frown invaded her face. As she stood there telling him everything he has done wrong, he carefully listened and stood still. 

“I know you might think I’m crazy, Ginmae, but that’s what love does.” She shook her head while he continued: “people do wacky stuff when they fall in love. I particularly speak to the moon; and I love you. Those are the two craziest things about me. Not bad, huh?” He smiled. 

Greg could tell he had spread some knowledge to her, but she was determined to prove him wrong—like always. Her jet black hair appeared blue in the moonlight and he watched as one of his insane loves grew distant. Ginmae seems to have gone—maybe forever—but he knew as long as he lives, the moon will always accompany him. 

He embraced his perfect loneliness as his mind contemplated with the moon: a silent companion. As he silently sat there thinking, he realized it certainly was not the moon guiding him, rather it was him guiding himself. 

He lightly gasped in amazement and looked up in the sky. His entire life has been thought out perfectly by this amazing brain of his, and he thought it was this giant ball of ancient rock in the sky thousands of miles away. It not longer mattered who was next to him or even if his moon was absent or in existent. He only cares about this intense mind of his that consistently rebirths a new Greg the world is excited to meet. 

Forever Ours

What have I done… 
As eminent as this break has been between my dearest Edwin and I, I can’t possibly entertain the fact of us being over. What are the odds of permanence? All my busy mind can conjure is how temporary this isolation will be. 

But am I kidding myself? 

This feeling was inexistent a month ago—just a mere month prior to this agonizing night. What have I decided that has seemingly altered his view on me? 

Everything. 

 I couldn’t have been a normal girlfriend. It was engraved in my DNA to be extravagant. I know for certain I could have contained the beast better than I attempted—and I use that word loosely. All I want to be able to accomplish is being his ride or die woman. I want to fight for his happiness and guard it like a salivating hound with its canines entirely visible. 

And then I say to myself to get a grip. 

This isn’t a real feeling. This is pure delusion. My thinking isn’t right. I can’t make any rational decisions when I’m completely mad with insanity. 

But am I really insane? 

Delusion resides in a mind full of fear. I’m no fearful woman. Through these months I’ve been battered and torn alive gasping for a fresh breath of clean air. After the suffering, I’ve died. And this is my sweet reverie of death. 

Death by loving and loss. 

Through this numbingly awesome death, I’ve grown perspective and understanding. I’m silent with wit and wisdom of what I once cherished and threw away. My love is now nothing but a speck of dust I’ve lost track of… 

Until my beloved returns with it budding in his fertile hands. 

“No, NO!” I yell as I try to free myself of the invisible chains bearing gifts. Although, the cries held themselves silent; of course I couldn’t be heard. So my blessed person engages in sweet revenge as he so wonderfully twisted his body around thankfully blinding me so all I heard were his footsteps advancing further from me. 

But the wind carries and his pleasant scent wisps curly cue trails right over into my clogged nostrils slashing through the murky mucus and traveling to my brain. 

My sweet, sweet high. 

Then, as soon as I catch a moment in reality, his soft voice sings deep whispers rumbling through my ears and rattling my eardrums to life. “I’ll be back.”

My intoxicating lullaby. 

Oh, please, I beg of you to sing me to sleep. Tell me a story of what once was before it left. I start to feel tears build up in my eyesight and my nose begins to sting from the passion leaking from its pores. Let us begin with our fantasy. 

The only story I will ever tell…

The story of who we were and could have been if we only were mature enough to handle it. Our mature love, Edwin, was too much for our tired little 21, 22 year old minds to comprehend. I’m sorry, onliest beloved. Let me make it up to you.  

If only I had the chance…

This bitter universe seems to be playing mind games with me and I am not fond with the affects. What chance do I really have? What probability is there of my dearest Edwin being a moment’s touch away from me with his blue/green eyes with specks of yellow piercing through my shit brown eyes…

Time will tell.

The old saying still holds tried and true. One day, beloved, I’ll walk right beside you and we can finally start anew. 
 After all,

Forever mine, forever thine, forever ours. 

            – Miss Paradise with the Amethyst Stone.