I will never understand how I can spend a great portion of my summer holidays updating stories, and when school starts back, and I have this 'reflection', they call it (it's a short story written based on a theme) for a Communication Studies project, I'm blanker than a wiped hard drive. So, simply as a way to cure my writer's block, and in light of Thor 2 being released on November 6th here in Trinidad, I'm writing this very drabble... I do believe it's the shortest thing I've ever written for this site.

"The world is indeed full of peril and in it there are many dark places.

But still there is much that is fair. And though in all lands, love is now
mingled with grief, it still grows, perhaps, the greater."

J.R. R. Tolkien

THIS WORLD OF MINE

How do you give hope to someone who's given up? How do you look at them in their tear-stained face and assure them, wholeheartedly, that a day would come when things would change?

How can you say that mother?

How?

I look up, through the glass partition that separates me from the world outside.

I'm dangerous, they say. A war criminal, Midgard dictates. I've seen the footage, I've read the memorandums. Stark, for all his narcissism, has done me the great service of keeping me aware. To arouse my conscience, or otherwise, it is of no consequence.

I enjoy hearing what people think of me.

I hear footsteps, steadily coming down the halls, and I turn away. The sound ceases , and I wonder what game they hope to win by doing this daily. Everyone likes knowing someone cares; Someone would take the time to descend into the depths of the Asgardian prison, just to see you.

But when they snatch that feeling away…?

I feel the tears coming and blink them away, willing myself not to think… not to feel. Mother has been the only one to come see me. She's brought me treats- books mostly- and persuaded the Allfather to get me a bed in my room.

She says she loves me, but my attack on Midgard was uncalled for. Odin was right. She thinks she can save the drowned child.

But what if the child never drowned?

I don't want her love… I don't deserve it. And I have told me that much. I want her here, and don't, and the same time. Many times she has left with tears in her eyes, and if seems that is the only way people can know me- by the pain I cause.

I remember, it seemed like ages ago, sitting in the barren wasteland, surrounded by fragments of the Bifrost. I had brought my knees up my chest, back pressed on one of the larger pieces, and was staring into the cosmos, wondering in which of my Astronomy lessons, I learned of this world.

A small light blossomed in the area before me, and I stared transfixed at it, hoping it was some enemy force that had come to defend its territory. I had let go because I wanted to die.

No more disappointing people, no more making mistakes, no more being chastised for who I was.

It was a small grace, I believed, to finally get something I wanted.

And I was denied even that.

It was my mother.

She told me how glad she was that I was alive. That Thor and the Allfather mourned my assumed death. That Asgard was not the same.

Even then I cried, longing for home and Mother. And in her non-ethereal form, she comforted me. And had said that there was always a way for those who were willing to try.

Everything had changed.

I had changed.

No one understood that I didn't want the Earth. Mortal were pathetic creatures, driven on the behest of desire and emotion. Why rule a worthless cause?

I wanted a way back home. Asgardians would only become involved if their world was threatened. And I had gotten it. Not in the way I had imagined, but I was back home nevertheless…

The footsteps resume again, and this time I see my brother's blond head. He was dressed for war.

I feel the cold rise up from within. Thor… Why now brother? Why now?