Killing Me Slowly
I don't think you ever knew, and I don't think you'll ever know, but every time something happens to you I don't react the way I should. You'll never know that every time this happens, a part of me dies.
I walked out of my tent today and saw you talking to Aslan. Your familiar profile was repentant. It took everything I was to stay where I was and not run to you. I wanted so much to hug you and make sure you were okay.
You walked slowly towards us. Lucy's cry of recognition upon exiting her tent having alerted you to the three of us. The first thing I see is the blood on your lip and the ugly bruise discoloring the skin next to your eye.
Tell me where the witch is, I'm going to kill her!
Aslan tells us that we are not to talk to you about the recent past and I agree, but I don't voice it.
You greeted us. Your voice alone, so alive, made me want to scream for joy and tell the world my brother was home. But I didn't.
Lucy hugged you, and I wanted to cry when you returned it. I'd never seen you react so warmly to any of us. Susan asked if you were alright. You said you were tired, and your honesty made me want to jump around like a child on Christmas morning. But I didn't. I told you to get some sleep. And you obeyed. Your tired face was wary as you edged past me.
Oh how I wanted to grin and give your shoulders an affectionate shake. I wanted to tell you how glad I was just to know you'd be sleeping nearby in our tent. You weren't who knows where with that evil woman. I wanted to let you know that I was there if you needed to talk about it. About anything. But I didn't.
I did manage to give you a tiny smile as I added that you should try not to wander off. I think it was meant to be joking, but it unexpectedly gave more meaning.
You gave me a nod and dissappeared into our tent, your small back hunched in exhaustion. And you'll never know. You'll never know that as you did, I killed another piece of myself.