'I am a leaf on the wind, watch me…'
And watch me they did.
Mal, Zoë, they couldn't stop watching. Willing the scene in front of them to change.
Zoë wants it to be her. They both want it to be them, not me. But it's not enough to want.
Zoë's hands on my shoulders, shaking me.
Her voice in my ear, frantically shouting and telling me to move to get up.
I will myself to look up. To look at my warrior woman for the last time. But I can't.
I want to tell her to go, to run. That it'll be alright if she just leaves and gets out.
And then it occurs to me that I'm no longer there. I'm not sitting in that chair, and it's not my head that slumps forward of its own accord.
And it's not me that will be buried. It's merely a shell of me.
I, me, myself is here. And there is nothing more I can do.
I wonder if she'll keep my dinosaurs. If she does, she'd better keep them separate. Rex still hasn't been forgiven for taking over 'this land.' So long ago now…
Above all, I hope she realises that I'm glad it's me and not her.
Perhaps if she does, it'll be easier.
It's not just my heart that's been pierced today.
I'm a leaf on the wind, Zoë. Watch me…
Soar.