reminiscing, pt. 2

I'll have to admit it, I was jealous at first. It took me quite a while to grasp the full nature of their relationship, and when i finally did, I felt like an idiot. But at that time, I was jealous of how well the two of them got along. At how easy it was for the two of them to develop a friendship. Within days, his 'just don't get in the way' attitude had completely changed. They got along like peas in a pod, and soon enough they were cracking jokes and acting like they were life long buddies. Considering that we were around eight or nine, that wasn't saying much. But it was enough to annoy me. It was harder for me to get along with her. Sure, I was curious about this foreign girl and her ways, but it took me longer to get accustomed to her presence. And even after I did, we didn't exactly get along. We were like water and oil, didn't mix. And it wasn't long before we were arguing. The two of us argued over the smallest things, like the children we were. It would be a couple of years before we manage to act more civil towards each other, and a couple more for me to start thinking that I might be in love with her. Of course I didn't really believe it, I didn't really understand it. But it was a possibility I had to consider.

But like I said, I was jealous.

My own feelings were painting a different picture than what really was there, and I actually believed it. But what would you have me do? If you had seen the way the two of them acted, you'd be suspicious as well. And I resigned. Resigned that I wasn't the one she had chosen. But really, with the way we were towards each other, what did I expect? She couldn't really fall for me. No. Not while she had him anyway. Now I know that there was love between the two of them. Just not the one I thought I saw. He loves her. Very much, actually. But not in that way. She's like a sister to him. A family member. A part of him, that he treasures very deeply and doesn't want to see hurt and would do anything for. Recently, he actually confessed  to me that at some point, he had actually felt that way towards her, but it didn't last long. Their relationship wasn't meant to be that way, and he didn't want to ruin everything. I never knew he could be that thoughtful. 

"You love her don't you?" the question was asked when we were around sixteen, I think. A lifetime away.  I was so taken aback by his outburst that I nearly choked in my drink. Unfortunately that served as enough confirmation for him. Lately, I had been making myself scarce, busying myself with training and studying, and just generally avoiding their company. Jealousy stung so deeply in my chest I felt better if I wasn't in their presence, feeling like an unwanted companion, butting in on some private business. They both had managed to corner me in different occasions, both inquiring about my continuous absence. I, of course, had shrugged it off, claiming to both I had been busy training and studying, telling her that I would find some time to hang out and telling him he would do best if he focused on his duties. That only kept them satisfied for so long, and that morning when the question came I felt as though as I had been stabbed. As if my perfect plan was, after all, very much flawed, and everyone could see through me.

I was surprised he was so insightful. I never expected him to figure it out, and for a moment I just stood there, staring at him, mouth agape, before I could find the right words to say. "What are you talking about?" he had smirked. Gods how I hated that smirk of his. He always did it when he though he knew something other people didn't. And most of the times, he did know something others didn't. Seeing it directed at me made me swallow. I glanced down at the table, and clenched my fists. There was no way to avoid this now, he could be like a dog with a bone - just didn't let go. If I continued to feign my ignorance, he would never leave me alone until I confessed. It was just a matter of time. And as much as I would appreciate to delay the confrontation, it was best just to get over with it. Even though I didn't really understand it myself. "I... I don't know." How could I know? My experience with love had been rather limited, I wasn't really ready to make such a claim. For him, however, it was as if I had just told him she was the love of my life, that I couldn't spend another minute without her and that I was ready to marry her. Or at least it looked like it for the way he was grinning like a madman.

I chucked a piece of bread at his head and scowled. That only fueled him, unfortunately.

"I knew it!" he exclaimed, making me sink into my seat, desperate to avoid the eyes that had set on us. "That's why you've been avoiding us, right?" he continued, much lower, and the other students returned their attention to their meals. I nodded some, and sat a bit straighter, my eyes focused on my plate. "I...  I don't know. Besides... I didn't want to get in the way. You too look pretty happy together." It took him a while to grasp the meaning behind my words, but when he finally did, he started laughing. Effectively bringing everyone's attention to us. I sunk again in my seat, praying for the earth to swallow me. Or to be struck by lighting. Since none of it happened, I resigned to glare at him - who knew, maybe I had some sort of special power that would make him catch on fire. He managed to regain some composure though, sparing me from stabbing him with my knife.

"You really thought... I mean... The two of us? Like together? No. NO" that was even more surprising. I blinked, not sure if I had understood it correctly. He cleared his throat before carrying on "That would be like dating my sister, or something. It'd be weird as hell." He still felt like laughing while I stat there, not quite believing. "I can't believe you really though something was going on." he muttered, shaking his head. 

That afternoon, the three of us got together again. 

The Hunger Games ♥ The Hanging Tree lyrics

reminiscing

I still remember the first time I met her. In fact, I remember it as if it were yesterday. We were only children, and yet I distinctly remember how different she looked. With her fair skin and clear eyes, she looked nothing like the other people I saw around the complex. She looked very much like her father, their eyes and hair the exact same shade. Perhaps there was something of her mother in her too, but about that I could not provide information, as it had always been the two of them, with no sign of a mother. Many years later I found out she had died during childbirth, but at that moment, all I knew about the two of them was that they were foreigners. I do not know how her father had come to work for us, but at first people were suspicious of him - after all, he was a foreigner, he could very well be siding with the enemy to attack us from the inside. Yet, time after time her father proved his allegiance to us - and his skills as a healer were far greater than any of the previous ones could atone for. And so, the two of them stayed. 

She was such a strange kid. Always following her father around and helping him. It was something we weren't accustomed to, and as such, it was regarded with suspicion. That small child, who didn't seem to be afraid of blood and gore in the least bit, was enough to scare grown men. Yet, her father was vehement about her presence. As his only child, she was his only hope to carry on the legacy, and as such, she had to learn. And if they were bothered by it, all they had to do was find someone else to heal their wounds. And so, the little girl grew up to be the fine healer she is today. 

That day, when the three of us first met, I remember that she was the one to approach us. Yet again, this was something we weren't used to and for a moment we just stared at the strange looking girl, with her defiant stance and her arms crossed over her chest. "Can I be your friend?" The question took us by surprise. Of all things we were expecting, that certainly wasn't one. I didn't know what to say, of course, but he, however, was quicker to regain his wit "Why?" of course he was curious. Leave it to him to be curious. "I don't like the other girls. They're mean. And annoying." we both laughed at this, of course. And she scowled. Though there was something more in that scowl... maybe, longing? "Father says I can't be without friends. And since I can't get along with the girls, I thought..." and now she was embarrassed. It was something she has maintained  throughout her life, she doesn't like admitting to things. Especially that she needs help. Yet, at that time, the look of embarrassment was quickly replaced by one of annoyance and she huffed, obviously displeased at the outcome of this situation. "Nevermind, I thought you guys were nicer. I was obviously wrong" And with that she was off, without allowing us to even reply.

It was a couple of days before we crossed paths again, and during we discussed whether or not that girl could be a friend. After all, one doesn't become friends just by asking, friendship is something that is build over time. However, he decided we could at least indulge the girl. Of course he was the one calling the shots.  So, when he met again, he was the one to step forward and speak to her. "Fine. You can hang with us if you wish. Just don't get in the way." If she had been happy about this news, she didn't not show it. Instead replying with a shrug and an uninterested voice. "Fine"

And so, our friendship begun.

fight or flight

- What are you still doing here?

- My job, what does it seem like?

- You should have taken cover by now, with the rest of the women and children. It's not--

- Oh, don't you start with me too! I'm the best damn healer this place has ever seen. If you think I'm just gonna sit aside while you guys fight--

- No, you don't start with me! You can't fight. You won't be able to stand it. What if they get to you? What will you do then? What if there's no one around to help you?

- I...

- I know you like to think of yourself as all knowing and super powerful, but you're not! You're not trained, you don't have the skills, and you're just a...

- A woman.

- I didn't mean...

- It's okay. It's not like I'm not used to being told I can't do things cause I'm a woman.

- That's not what I meant! It has nothing to do with your gender!

- Oh no? Cause the last time I checked, all that mattered was what I had between my legs!

- You just don't get it do you? Look at me. Look at me, damn it! I could care less if you're a man or a woman. You simply weren't meant to fight. You are supposed to save people, not kill them... How do you supposed we'd feel if you ended up dead without us being able to do anything to protect you?

- I just don't wanna loose anyone else...

- I know that. I'm not going anywhere, I promise.

- You better.

- And I'm not letting him go anywhere too. He still has to confess to you.

fucking asshole. 
you better not die on me. 

babblings

- Damn it woman, you're a butcher!

- You are very much welcome. Now stop squirming or I'll end up hurting you even more. Seriously, you guys are supposed to be fearless, and yet here you are, squealing like a little girl.

- I am NOT --- ow ow ow OW! You truly are heartless, I don't know what he sees in you.

- Who sees what in me?

- Oh, nothing, nothing... just a little thing of mi --- OW!

- Please be kind enough to remember who is treating you.

- More like torturing me. You truly are a butcher.

- You are very much welcome.

fate

fate.

i hate that word.

it's a scapegoat.

every time something bad happens "it was meant to happen"

it steals away any achievement.

every time something good happens "the fates were kind to bless us"

we never do a thing, we're just mere puppets dangling from the strings of fate.

my mother took me to a witch when i was really young. an old shriveled woman said to be able to look into your soul and tell you your future. i barely remember it, but it is said that the woman pointed at me as we crossed the threshold with a look of pure fear in her features. "tainted" she had called me "the sins of the father have tainted the child". this is something every mother is longing to hear. looking back, i think that that day marked the end of my life as i knew it. and i knew very little of my own life at that point. 

but i guess i did have to pay for my father's sins. 

fate is indeed a cruel thing. for instead of punishing the responsible ones, it turns it's wrath to those who did nothing more than be brought into this world. because tell me, who was more punished: my family who died, or me, the only one who was left behind after witnessing their deaths? from where i stand, death sounds like an easy punishment. 

after all living is what's harder. 

do i believe in fate?

i would like to thing i am very much responsible for every move i make, but my whole existence has made me doubt it. for if it hadn't been for their deaths, i would have never be where i am today. somewhere i shouldn't even be. doing things i shouldn't even be allowed to do. i'm a fluke. a unique occurrence. the only one like me between all of them. and i'm every bit as good as them - and that scares them. the fact that that one tainted child could be so much more than them. only few of them even dared to accept me.

but fate is a very cruel thing indeed. 

of the tree that welcomed my presence, one is dead, the other is mangled and lost his loved one, and the other... has lost himself. because i'm a tainted child that must pay for her father's sins and they dared associate with me. i wish i could just leave them alone. turn around and never look back. but every time i tried to, i find myself incapable of doing so. i'm bonded with them. and i fear that might bring forth our demise. 

in the end, i guess i find it ironic. 

because they always called us, "the weapons of fate"

- Nunca é assim tão fácil, não é?

- O quê?

- Isto tudo.. a vida. Sei lá...

- Viraste-te para a filosofia outra vez foi?

- E tu és uma grande ajuda, para variar.

- Faço os possíveis.

- Falando a sério...

- Deixa-te disso. Não podes simplesmente ficar contente por as coisas estarem a correr bem por uma vez?

- Mas esse é que é o grande problema, ó atrasado! As coisas nunca correm bem.

- Bem, estão a correr agora.

- E desde quando é que tu és tão optimista?

- E desde quando é que tu és tão pessimista? Oh. Espera--- AU! PARA QUE RAIOS FOI ISSO?

- Apeteceu-me.

- Pára de te rir como uma raposa idiota.

(diálogos sem sentido...)

é quando queremos dizer sim, mas nos obrigamos a dizer não. é quando nos queremos agarrar a alguém e chorar desalmadamente até que a dor pare, mas mordemos o lábio, lutamos contra as lágrimas e levantamos o queixo 'não se passa nada'. é quando queremos ser frágeis, pequenos, insignificantes, sem obrigações e com alguém sempre ao pé de nós que nos dê a mão, mas dizemos que somos capazes e que vamos fazer as coisas sozinhos. é quando doí tanto que não conseguimos respirar mas levantamo-nos e seguimos em frente. é quando nem sequer conseguimos falar, mas forçamos as palavras a sair.

é quando...
é quando...

breathing

It's cold. My first impression is of how cold it is. It wasn't like this before, was it? I certainly don't remember it being so cold before. But then again, I wasn't really paying attention - the cold, the warmth, it never really matters does it? Not when we're happy anyway. And we were. Happy. Joking about in our day to day nothingness. Small senseless things that could easily mean nothing. But they don't, do they? Mean nothing? Not when we're not alone anyway.

The second thing I noticed was that I couldn't hear you breathing. I try my best to hear something, holding my own already ragged breath for a small eternity, but there's only silence. No, not silence. The absence of your breathing. By this moment, I become aware of my own heart, drumming loudly at my ears, drowning the other noises. And next, I taste the panic, the bitter bitter panic, as the ominous thoughts make their way to my head. I try to move. To get a glimpse. To scream. For you. I need to see you. I have to see you. I need some sort of confirmation. But my body doesn't react, and I can't move. All I have is the absence of your breathing.

The minutes stretch on an on, in an eternity of seconds. It feels like hours before I hear the sirens. Again, I try to scream, let them know we're here. And again my body refuses to cooperate. My throat feels like it's closed, unable to produce sound. All there's left to do is lie there, watching as the action happens all around us. The EMTs free us from the mess of broken metal we're stuck into. And finally, I feel free.

I focus on one of the EMTs, struggling with my closed throat to get some words out "What about him? Is he okay?" my voice doesn't sound like my own, raspy and cracking. They don't respond, only exchanging glance as they continue to fuss over me. "Is he even alive?" my voice is stronger now, but it still sounds foreign. Fumbling with my body, I managed to grab hold of the closest wrist. Begging for some sort of response.

"Miss, you need to calm down" he says quietly as he covers my nose and mouth with an oxygen mask. His eyes speak volumes though. I do as I am told and close my eyes as they heave me into the ambulance. Fighting back the tears as much as can.

God. Please.
Let me die.

muito tempo

tempo demais...

entristece-me voltar aqui e ver que já se passaram dois anos.
entristece-me mais pensar que foram dois anos sem escrever.

gostava de saber onde se meteu a francisca que escrevia contos nas aulas... gostava mesmo.

falta de tempo, mas acima de tudo, falta de musa...

tem de voltar, espero.

vai voltar.

sooner rather than later.