Lavi – Rabi

Gazing up into the sky
I see nothing but grey
Looking for shelter from the rain
Which now starts pouring down heavily
I run down the streets
People pass by, shadows over their heads
No-one notices me
I run and turn around the corner
Of the shop where sometimes
Some old man plays chess with me
But the doors are closed
The windows shut
And as I knock against the door
I realise he's not gonna open
My gaze drifts from the wall down
Down to the wet ground beneath my feet
Raindrops pond
It's a constant patter
Quite annoying, quite damnable
For it keeps me from straying around like usually
Unless I want to get sick
I start to run again
Me feet let the water sputter
And cold drops wet my bare legs
With every step further
As I arrive at the library
It's closed as well
But I don't care
Since its roof overshadows some square metres of the footpath
Whilst standing under it
I feel my damp hair partly sticking to my forehead and temples
I rubb my eyes
My whole face feels as if dipped into a cold water bowl
My eyes burn
My stomach does, too
I hate it
I hate it, I hate it
This feeling of weakness, of being at someone's mercy
It's disgusting
The rain doesn't bother though
It just goes on and on
Falls on and on
Not minding me there or anywhere
Not that anybody else would mind me
But that's okay for I don't mind anyone either myself
Don't concern myself with people as long as I can avoid it
'Course, there are moments you have but to rely on others
When you need a third hand
Or in my case, a second eye
The looks they give me when they actually do notice me
Are curious and at the same time disgusted
They want to know what's under the eye-patch that partly covers the right side of my face
And at the same time imagine a horrible, ugly wound
They feel as if it was contagious
And in most cases keep their distance all on their own
But I don't mind
I don't need them
And if I do
I know how to please them, ho to be nice, to be helpful
How to play over the mysterious eye-patch
How to charm them with my looks and wonderful speech
If they ignore my obvious flaw, they love my colourful hair and face and even my lank body
The rain doesn't subside
Red strands of hair are sticking to my neck, falling dripping over my one green eye
I take a step forward
Into the rain again
I look up into the grey, distant, indifferent sky
And I cry

Jiji said, he'd found me unconcious on the streets
I don't remember where
I don't even remember the town's name
Or what I've wanted in front of a closed library
But after the night he found me in that no-man's land
I wasn't able to forget ever again
I've always had a photographic memory
But hunger and other unpleasant things had always been able to overshadow this skill
Not anymore, though
He teached me a special technique which enables us to file memories
So that the memories won't wholey consume our selves
Won't influence us
Jiji said, I never looked back or spoke about my time before he found me
And that all the things he knows about me
Are things he knows as the Bookman
He also says, it's good that I don't cry
It's good that I am indifferent to the things around me
To the people
To the world in general
If he knew that sometimes when it rains
I notice a strange feeling
Stabbing the heart in my chest I'm supposed to have given up on anyway
If he knew that in those moments I feel such a pain that I wished I could cry
Would he abandon me?
Would Jiji leave me behind, taking with him the only goal I ever had in my life?
Becoming his successor as a Bookman?
I'd like to hope he wouldn't
But I also do know, he would

It's raining
I'm sitting in the room I'm sharing with Jiji in the Black Order
It won't be forerve though, we never stay at one place for too long
Staring into the mirror
The old me is staring back
Grown like I am but still the same hungry, ragged and weird child
That I had been until Jiji found me
My old self stares back at me and smiles
And whilst it does so
Tears are running down the left unhealthy white cheek
I avert my gaze from that old personality which has nothing in common with me anymore
Direct it at the rain splattered, high arched window
Someone inside myself, inside my countless memories, cries
Like a hurt animal
Like a forlorn child
Like a forsaken boy
The door kreaks ever so slightly and Jiji enters
Don't ponder about things of the past, he says, and lights some candles
It's pitch-black until the small flames illuminate part of the book-stuffed room
I'm not, I answer, partly still hypnotised by the constant rain dropping
Not turning towards him
Not even as he approaches, worried that his aprrentice might make fun of him
Yes, you are, he states after several minutes in which he's only looked at me
With cautious, observing eyes
Don't forget who you are now, Lavi
His voice seems to be very close to me and yet so far away
Don't forget that those days when you were crying are long gone now and utterly insignificant
I don't cry, I say
Yes, you do, he states and quietly walks out of the room
To leave me alone