Melita
yes, yes, I am wild
I am the wind that makes breathing hard
I am the wind that makes breathing hard
Gods, wouldn’t she like to stick that cigarette right in the middle of his forehead.
Instead, she stood, rigid in the doorframe, listening to his quiet, to the way things had shattered all around them. It didn’t used to be like this. It used to be family. It used to be blood. It used to be bonds.
She couldn’t quite identify when it all unraveled and frayed and became such an absurd mess. Maybe when she started to see the errors pile up and the trauma set in and everything else became ashes and soot, dust and dirt, she didn’t want to touch anymore. Maybe when he betrayed Nate and Hotaru. Maybe when there were significant lines drawn. Maybe when he hid himself from her again and again and again; and she realized she didn’t really matter. Maybe when she had to ask all the time, for information, for understanding. Maybe when –
Melita had heard enough of the Hotaru burning. Had stayed out of it, because she saw both sides and didn’t tamper with its multitudes and bombshells.
And at the end of it, it sounded like they were just running away.
She could hear the other things in between the eaves too. You don’t matter drumming against the inside of her ribs, past the pinnacles of her heart. Perhaps she deserved it, because she couldn’t stand this house in the midst of all the dilemmas, all the distrust, all the crackling foundations. She’d tried, more than once, to make them see reason. It’d fallen on deaf ears. Or he just shut down. Or the walls came back up.
Her hands shook, fingers trembling, something in her splitting. Was there any point to her saying anything at all? When it’d be the same renditions from before? When the echoes and embers resolved and resounded around this building, and still didn’t seem to reflect back on him? “You know, I once thought I meant something to you. Family. The only ones I had left.” She ignored the tears hastening down her cheeks, didn’t dash them away as they came over. “But I couldn’t stay here while you both pretended everything was okay.” That things hadn’t been wrecked and ruined. Couldn’t live in the chamber of lies.
Only then did a hand brush the tears away, and her eyes went downcast to the floor, sniffling, trying so hard to not unfold like a storm. “What are you going to do with the house? Should I just go pack my things and find somewhere else?” Live on the Ark? Out on the surf? Go find herself someplace that didn’t feel so hollow and empty?
Instead, she stood, rigid in the doorframe, listening to his quiet, to the way things had shattered all around them. It didn’t used to be like this. It used to be family. It used to be blood. It used to be bonds.
She couldn’t quite identify when it all unraveled and frayed and became such an absurd mess. Maybe when she started to see the errors pile up and the trauma set in and everything else became ashes and soot, dust and dirt, she didn’t want to touch anymore. Maybe when he betrayed Nate and Hotaru. Maybe when there were significant lines drawn. Maybe when he hid himself from her again and again and again; and she realized she didn’t really matter. Maybe when she had to ask all the time, for information, for understanding. Maybe when –
Melita had heard enough of the Hotaru burning. Had stayed out of it, because she saw both sides and didn’t tamper with its multitudes and bombshells.
And at the end of it, it sounded like they were just running away.
She could hear the other things in between the eaves too. You don’t matter drumming against the inside of her ribs, past the pinnacles of her heart. Perhaps she deserved it, because she couldn’t stand this house in the midst of all the dilemmas, all the distrust, all the crackling foundations. She’d tried, more than once, to make them see reason. It’d fallen on deaf ears. Or he just shut down. Or the walls came back up.
Her hands shook, fingers trembling, something in her splitting. Was there any point to her saying anything at all? When it’d be the same renditions from before? When the echoes and embers resolved and resounded around this building, and still didn’t seem to reflect back on him? “You know, I once thought I meant something to you. Family. The only ones I had left.” She ignored the tears hastening down her cheeks, didn’t dash them away as they came over. “But I couldn’t stay here while you both pretended everything was okay.” That things hadn’t been wrecked and ruined. Couldn’t live in the chamber of lies.
Only then did a hand brush the tears away, and her eyes went downcast to the floor, sniffling, trying so hard to not unfold like a storm. “What are you going to do with the house? Should I just go pack my things and find somewhere else?” Live on the Ark? Out on the surf? Go find herself someplace that didn’t feel so hollow and empty?
I am the ocean and the battered shore
I will be the passion of thunder, a howl of fury
I will be the passion of thunder, a howl of fury
