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Rejection II

May 13, 2013

I dream.

Dark skies above me, crimson rivers below me. I am wandering through a mist of stars and snow, my skin tightening from the cold. There are whispers around me and I think of insects crawling inside unseen walls.

All around me are familiar faces.

They come to me one by one. First my father, austere, solemn, watching me play with my toys. Next is my mother, toughened by salted seas and grimy streets, grim and powerful in her police uniform, tougher than most in her precinct. Then comes Amy, the first – perhaps the only. She wears the sweater she borrowed from me. Last comes Hanako, somehow even younger than she is now. Their eyes are lit from within by a honey-colored glow; they look at me through veils of forgotten time. Golden tears leak from Amy’s eyes. Worn-out faces.

“When you last visited this place you rejected us, weakling.”

The voice is much too loud in the whispering, dull glow of this forgotten place. It is filled with rage beneath a calm surface.

“You chose to reject us. What makes you think you deserve to be here?”

I say nothing. My people – the heart-figments – walk together with me as I press on through the not-snow, shivering in the not-cold, blocking out the increasingly furious barks of the Anti-Anima. Hanako grasps my hand and holds it tightly. She – it – smiles at me and the warmth radiating from this vision soothes me. I will be okay.

“We could destroy you with a thought.”

Empty threats. My heart is steeled against this obtrusive, one-sided bickering. It may indeed wish to hurt me; the problem it now faces is that it can’t. It is unable to wield its might in my presence. It can only shout at me, try to demoralize me. I can feel the figment of Amy grasp my free hand. Together with Hanako, she provides a shield against the dark.

A song comes to my mind, and I sing it to the filth-tainted blackness.

And I find it kind of funny
I find it kind of sad
The dreams in which I’m dying are the best I’ve ever had

“Silence, maggot! Insignificant fool! You are nothing! You are less than nothing! We could stop your heart this very second!”

Made to feel the way that every child should
Sit and listen
Sit and listen

“You will cease this incessant noise, insect! You will bow to us!”

Hello, teacher, tell me what’s my lesson?

My figments – mother, father, Hanako, Amy – all take up the song and we sing it together, drowning out the screams of the outraged horror.

We come to a precipice. There is no gift this time.

It comes from above. A giant, terrifying shape, comprised mostly of darkness and ill will. It swoops down with an ear-splitting shriek and perches itself like an obscene, giant raven on top of a not-gravestone that bears the inscription Here lies Chie Williams, loved by no-one, never missed.

“We could be merciful. You could yield to us.”

Around me, the shield is slowly evaporating. The last to go is the image of my sister, and she gives me a radiant, honey-colored smile. Her mouth forms the words: I find it kind of sad.

I place one hand on the hilt of my sword. The other hand surges with energy as living flame bursts into existence in my palm. Gaia is my protection.

I fight.



From → Dreams

  1. Reblogged this on Letters from Agartha and commented:
    They dream and I listen…

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  1. Rejection II | Letters from Agartha

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