Fool
I tried to kill the pain
But only brought more
I lay dying
And I'm pouring crimson regret and betrayal
I'm dying, praying, bleeding and screaming
Am I too lost to be saved?
Am I too lost? --Evanescence (Tourniquet)
...
It's been five years. Five long, long years. I like to think that I moved on... that I've forgotten everything. Most of the time, my little game of pretend works...most of the time. Sometimes, when I least expect it, I remember. I remember everything. When I close my eyes, I see him.
Your probably wondering whom I am talking about, are you not? Because only one other person knows of what I had and lost. I begged Paris to never tell, for the few last remaining people of Troy would call me a traitor. All of them would.
I tried to erase his existence from my mind. It worked for a little while, but things began to remind me of him; look like him. I even dreamt about him. I even had a vision of his image walking towards me. I could not escape him, no matter how hard I tried to forget. It is like all his features, every rippling muscle, and every detail of his face is engraved in my mind.
Sometimes I feel his memory slipping away, and I fear that I'm forgetting him. For that is the problem, I am torn two ways. I want to forget. I want to forget...Achilles.
I can feel his touch sometimes. I remember his scent, how wonderful it felt like to have his warm hands, the same hands that killed so many of my people, caress my face. Sometimes, when I'm just about to fall asleep, when I'm just on the brink of awareness, I can feel his arms wrap around me in his secure embrace. Before it all, I would have never dreamed of being in such a situation...I was such a fool.
Paris never inquired about it. Although when he thinks I am not looking, I catch him looking at me in an odd, accusing way. It hurt me to see that feeling in my cousin's eyes. I believe he stares at me when I am not aware of it too...times when I cannot see...times when I start daydreaming about the dead...
The only time in my memory when Paris has ever said anything about the misfortunes of our past was one cold night...
...
I was in my makeshift bed, trying to get warm in my blankets when I heard the soft padding of footsteps on the grass, coming towards me. He thought I was asleep. He touched my shoulder softy and I turned to him. He could tell I had not been sleeping.
"Did you love him?" He asked me, barely above a whisper. I bowed my head, and fought the urge to weep.
"Why do you ask this, cousin?" I whispered as I forced my tears away.
"I can see it in your eyes everyday, Briseis," He told me. I stared. And for the first time, my eyes filled with burning tears.
I was very angry...with myself.
"I know what you think of me, Paris," I hissed and covered my face with my hands. "You believe me a traitor of Troy," I continued, muffled sounding through my hands.
There was a loud silence.
Then I felt my hands pulled away from my face, Paris clutching me desperately. I felt ashamed that he could see my tears, my weakness.
"Don't you ever think that, Briseis," He ground out, staring into my face meaningfully.
"You cannot help who you fall in love with. It happens in the most unlikely places, and with the most unexpected people," He glanced at me through hooded eyes, "Even if it's with your worst enemy."
He let me go and rose swiftly. "Paris!" I cried softly, as he strode into the night. I covered my face with my hands. "Paris..." I moaned mournfully.
...
I knew I should have expected it, but it still felt like a slap in the face. Shock waved over me, and I knew that from then on it would never be the same. I was a fool to ever believe that I could forget Achilles. Because he is not only in my mind, but in my very soul...
I tried to kill the pain
But only brought more
I lay dying
And I'm pouring crimson regret and betrayal
I'm dying, praying, bleeding and screaming
Am I too lost to be saved?
Am I too lost? --Evanescence (Tourniquet)
...
It's been five years. Five long, long years. I like to think that I moved on... that I've forgotten everything. Most of the time, my little game of pretend works...most of the time. Sometimes, when I least expect it, I remember. I remember everything. When I close my eyes, I see him.
Your probably wondering whom I am talking about, are you not? Because only one other person knows of what I had and lost. I begged Paris to never tell, for the few last remaining people of Troy would call me a traitor. All of them would.
I tried to erase his existence from my mind. It worked for a little while, but things began to remind me of him; look like him. I even dreamt about him. I even had a vision of his image walking towards me. I could not escape him, no matter how hard I tried to forget. It is like all his features, every rippling muscle, and every detail of his face is engraved in my mind.
Sometimes I feel his memory slipping away, and I fear that I'm forgetting him. For that is the problem, I am torn two ways. I want to forget. I want to forget...Achilles.
I can feel his touch sometimes. I remember his scent, how wonderful it felt like to have his warm hands, the same hands that killed so many of my people, caress my face. Sometimes, when I'm just about to fall asleep, when I'm just on the brink of awareness, I can feel his arms wrap around me in his secure embrace. Before it all, I would have never dreamed of being in such a situation...I was such a fool.
Paris never inquired about it. Although when he thinks I am not looking, I catch him looking at me in an odd, accusing way. It hurt me to see that feeling in my cousin's eyes. I believe he stares at me when I am not aware of it too...times when I cannot see...times when I start daydreaming about the dead...
The only time in my memory when Paris has ever said anything about the misfortunes of our past was one cold night...
...
I was in my makeshift bed, trying to get warm in my blankets when I heard the soft padding of footsteps on the grass, coming towards me. He thought I was asleep. He touched my shoulder softy and I turned to him. He could tell I had not been sleeping.
"Did you love him?" He asked me, barely above a whisper. I bowed my head, and fought the urge to weep.
"Why do you ask this, cousin?" I whispered as I forced my tears away.
"I can see it in your eyes everyday, Briseis," He told me. I stared. And for the first time, my eyes filled with burning tears.
I was very angry...with myself.
"I know what you think of me, Paris," I hissed and covered my face with my hands. "You believe me a traitor of Troy," I continued, muffled sounding through my hands.
There was a loud silence.
Then I felt my hands pulled away from my face, Paris clutching me desperately. I felt ashamed that he could see my tears, my weakness.
"Don't you ever think that, Briseis," He ground out, staring into my face meaningfully.
"You cannot help who you fall in love with. It happens in the most unlikely places, and with the most unexpected people," He glanced at me through hooded eyes, "Even if it's with your worst enemy."
He let me go and rose swiftly. "Paris!" I cried softly, as he strode into the night. I covered my face with my hands. "Paris..." I moaned mournfully.
...
I knew I should have expected it, but it still felt like a slap in the face. Shock waved over me, and I knew that from then on it would never be the same. I was a fool to ever believe that I could forget Achilles. Because he is not only in my mind, but in my very soul...