Full Metal Alchemist belongs to Arakawa Hiromu.
I've been told my way of writing is weird. Oh well XDD;;
"Niisan, I'm scared."
"I'm scared too Al. I'm scared too."
"What are we going to do now, Niisan?"
"We take it back. We take back everything we lost."
How I wish then and there that I had not said anything.
But what could I say instead, anyway? I cannot really say to my brother that we do nothing. That we do not research, that we forego looking for the Philosopher's stone. I couldn't very well leave him like that, with his soul attached to an armor via a blood seal. I couldn't run away from this responsibility.
Or more likely, It's not exactly like I have a choice.
I've wondered about it, how my life would be if I hadn't joined the Military. If I hadn't taken the exam. If Al and I had just stayed at Risembool, and lived with the Rockbell's. If we hadn't burned our house down.
If I hadn't retrieved my brother's soul.
I have the right to think that, don't I? Sometimes, I wonder, where I would be now if I didn't go back for Al. Would I be at the Rockbells, acting as assistant mechanic for Winry and Pinako-baachan? Would I have even been to Central? Or East City? Would I still be practicing alchemy?
Sometimes, I picture myself, alone, maybe a young adult, with only one automail limb. Doing odd jobs, here and there. Same empty eyes, and empty smile. More quiet, more reserved. Maybe less sensitive about my height-WHO ARE YOU CALLING-or maybe not. No bulky armor beside me.
I wonder though...would I even be alive?
...maybe not. Maybe I would've killed myself, right after losing Al. But if I were still alive...would I be feeling as empty as I am now? would I have seen so many deaths? Be the cause of those deaths?
I can always hear a part of me screaming, protesting, crying: "We are too young for this! We were just kids! We did not know what we were doing! Why must we be made to suffer for the rest of our lives? My brother does not feel anything. Why must I shoulder his pain? Will we never be worthy of forgiveness? Will we never have inner peace? For crying our loud, can you not give us a little reprieve, WE'RE JUST KIDS!"
But that's life, isn't it? It doesn't choose who to kick in the ass. It doesn't give a fuck if it's ruining the life of a little innocent girl and her dog, or a proud father. What more a mere eleven year old who was so full of himself, he thought he could bring his dead mother back to life?
I'm tired of hurting, of choking back the tears of frustration whenever a lead turns up nothing. Of hearing the sadness in Al's voice, or that hollowness of his armor. I'm tired of hearing his encouraging words, his endless, "Niisan, it's going to be okay, there's going to be a new lead soon," or "It's not your fault Niisan."
Sometimes, I'd wish I'd never wake up.
But then, like what I said, I really don't have any other choice.
No matter how wholeheartedly I accept this, or how determined I be, it doesn't erase the fact that there's no other thing we could be doing. That I could be doing. There is no other path but to move forward, to reach our hands out to that elusive dream. To continue to persevere, to hurt, to bleed. To lose our remaining humanity. Because that's what a dream is, isn't it? The price of attainment is usually more fucked up than Equivalent Trade.
It is our dream, my brother and I, to regain everything we lost. But more than a dream...I've come to think of it a a goal instead. It feels more attainable then. More possible. More believable.
Even if I might just be deluding myself.
09-20-07