I always thought my life sucked. Really I did.
Life in Kansas seemed too restrictive. There were too many lingering rules and fine lines that were not to be crossed. A degrading, in my eyes pointless, job that had to be tended to everyday. Drawings, dreams and my motorcycle, which gave me a rebel reputation, were all I had.
My robo-mom always told me that life was there in Kansas, amidst broken windmills and endless fields. Who would want to believe that?
I really thought life was bad when I showed up to the OZ and found out my true family history. The only sibling I had was evil. My mother was imprisoned and my father's location unknown. Discovering that at one time I was deceased made me sick. I was afraid of going to sleep for a while.
Yes, I always thought my life sucked.
And then I met Wyatt Cain.
Upon meeting this man, I realized what true loss was. To his knowledge, his family no longer existed, they had been wiped right out of the OZ. Here I was complaining about my parents. This man had nothing but a handful of broken, painful memories. Even those scattered memories had a price. The scars both emotional and physical proved how hard he fought to hold on to the little scraps he had left.
I remember how fast he ran. Never did I see him move so fast.
"Adora!"
The booming voice pierced the crisp air. The name, however, simply echoed. I had watched from a distance as his attention fell upon the small post.
It was so small. 'Adora Cain' etched sloppily onto the simple piece of wood. Most would have looked over it without giving the name an ounce of respect.
Cain poured over it, running his fingers through each letter and whispering the name over and over. The already brittle world that surrounded him had given out entirely and came crashing down in silence. All he had to show for it was red eyes and plenty of tears.
Oddly enough, I wanted to cry with him. I wanted to tell him how horrible I felt. Who was I to complain about my life? I had two sets of parents. Everyone I loved and cared for was still alive and fighting in their own way. The guilt began to burden me. It settled in my chest with such weight I feared I might cave in.
"I'm sorry."
Shamefully I choked out the words. I hoped that my presence spoke for me. While the thoughts flowed through my mind with full force, I couldn't speak. I didn't know what to say. The life I knew experienced no real loss. Death never claimed the breath of anyone I loved. This lack of experience left my mouth dry. A closed mouth says nothing wrong. Or so I figured. I pondered over my own theory and immediately saw the flaws that plagued the words I lived by my whole life.
Cain didn't need silence. He needed someone to tell him it would be okay.
This whole time he stood strong, not just for himself but for all of us. It was my turn now.
That night, while Glitch and Raw slept, I stood awake. Thoughts continued to race through my mind. The muffled sound of crying flooded my ears.
I lacked the stealth required to move silently, especially in the dark.
"I worry about you kid. Why are you up so late?"
Enough was enough, I thought shaking my head.
"You worry about other people to much Cain. Who's going to worry about you?"
"No one. I don't have to be worried about." Cain said, although I wasn't sure he was convinced of his own statement.
Without uttering a word I sat next to him and wrapped my arms around him body.
"That's not fair, Cain. Someone has to worry about."
Hot tears soaked through my shirt and his sobs caused us both to shake.
"Life's not fair DG." The voice vibrated through my body.
"No. It's not. No one this good should have to suffer Cain. You shouldn't have to suffer. You're too good a person. You've got too big a heart. And whether you want to admit it or not, someone still has to worry about you."
That was the best I could come up with. It was nothing in comparison to the complex thoughts that had conquered my mind most of the day. Regardless, it was all I could come up with.
For most of that night, Cain cried. At some point the tears stopped, although some sobbing could was still audible.
Finally, the exhausted Tin Man fell asleep. I took it upon myself to keep watch during those hours.
Life had not changed by morning. The occurrences of the past still haunted Cain, reminding him of how bitter certain aspects of life could be. The crushed and shattered memories were still his. Now, however, he had one more thing in his possession.
Now he had me.