*Author's note: This was inspired by a picture I saw on the front page of
the local section of a 2 year old girl who looked like a perfect blend
between Ebony and Jay. I guess this is sort of dedicated to her, though
probably if I were her I wouldn't want it. And of course, all credit is
due to the amazingly creative people who invented The Tribe, and the
wonderful young actors who portray the characters. Bear with me, this is
my first Tribe fanfic*
I have my mother's eyes and my father's chin. I know, because that's what I've been told every day of my life. I even have pictures, one of my father, and one of my mother, but none of them together. People also say I have my mother's spirit and my father's determination but I think that's just because those are the attributes one associates with eyes and chins. Maybe it's because that's all people seem to remember about my parents, that my mother was spirited and my father was determined. They forget that my mother was a self-serving tyrant and that my father never actually achieved any of the good things he set out to do.
That may sound like a harsh assessment for daughter to make about her deceased parents, but I say it because I can't bear the lies any longer. Granting them sainthood is no way to remember them. They were children playing deadly games. They were star-crossed lovers unaware of encircling danger. They were a Queen and a General in a time when the world rose a- new with all the violence of a birthing star. Their love made them immortal in their own minds yet they were destined to be martyrs. Never saints.
I was their only mistake. I was their downfall. Perhaps they would have moved on to new lovers, new games, but they would still be alive. The fate of a city was changed when I was born
I have my mother's eyes and my father's chin. I know, because that's what I've been told every day of my life. I even have pictures, one of my father, and one of my mother, but none of them together. People also say I have my mother's spirit and my father's determination but I think that's just because those are the attributes one associates with eyes and chins. Maybe it's because that's all people seem to remember about my parents, that my mother was spirited and my father was determined. They forget that my mother was a self-serving tyrant and that my father never actually achieved any of the good things he set out to do.
That may sound like a harsh assessment for daughter to make about her deceased parents, but I say it because I can't bear the lies any longer. Granting them sainthood is no way to remember them. They were children playing deadly games. They were star-crossed lovers unaware of encircling danger. They were a Queen and a General in a time when the world rose a- new with all the violence of a birthing star. Their love made them immortal in their own minds yet they were destined to be martyrs. Never saints.
I was their only mistake. I was their downfall. Perhaps they would have moved on to new lovers, new games, but they would still be alive. The fate of a city was changed when I was born