The Daisy Genocide

The Same Woods, Different Paths

My emotions as I walked through those trees, searching for the light of the reservation, will remain undisclosed and that is because there is enough sadness and unfulfilled longing in this world that such a heavy burden as mine could be lethal. In short, I felt pain on the greatest level I'd ever known. So many regrets, so many pathetic desires to return to my small home and my small family and pretend like nothing had ever gone wrong. If you ever hear loss of love portrayed as anything less excruciating, then you're being lied to.

Antonio met me on the edge of the clearing with an expression that could only be described as empathetic in the kindest degree. He held out his hand but I didn't have the consciousness to realize it was there. "Do you need to take a break?" He whispered close to my face, rubbing his thumb in soft circles along my cheek.

"Stop doing that." I ordered, my breath thin as air. "I'm not going to cry."

"Lovino, it would be insane for you not to cry."

I clenched my jaw tight until I could regain my jagged breathing. "I'm going to take the blow in full, I'm going to try just this once to be as courageous as they say I am."

"There's no shame in it, really! The only reason I'm not crying now is because I haven't any tears left, I used them all up in the morning."

"I'll wait until my losses are far enough gone then I promise you, you'll meet a Lovino as sightly as hell."

His forehead briefly touched against mine. "And when that time comes, I will be ready to hold him tight and dry as many tears as he can manage. Till then… don't push yourself too hard, my love."

I nodded and mouthed an "Okay". He gave me time to stand silently and collect myself before we began a grueling walk to a small concrete house, where I would have my first ever surgery. "Where is every one?" I asked, noticing the eerie emptiness.

"The feast was tonight, their all experiencing brief comatose from the amount of pork and mash they ingested."

"What about the doctor?"

"He didn't go, he's been preparing for this all day."

"Preparing? How? Sharpening his knives?"

"No. I went by earlier to ask him about it. He's a very skilled doctor, Lovino. You don't have to worry."

"As good as he is, he'll still be slicing open my arm."

"It'll be okay, I'll be right there." Though, that didn't settle my nerves. Before entering the house, I made one last trip to empty my stomach on a patch of grass.

The doctor was a tall man with the kind of perfection that was engineered in a lab. He was old and tired, though his face concealed it well under those big, round, glasses. He smiled at Antonio and I then shook our hands and introduced himself as Doctor Wise. "Is that your real name?" I asked in disbelief.

"Real? Yes. Given at birth? No. That one I left in the city. When I began a new life here, I needed a new name so I decided that I would name myself after what I most wanted to be. That way, I'd say it so often that eventually I'd convince myself that that's what I was."

"Wise?"

"Yup. What should I call you?"

"They call me Little."

"Is little what you want to be?"

I shook my head.

"Spit it out boy, what should I call you?"

"Brave." I decided. It was a complete lie but maybe, for a little while, I too could believe it. The doctor smiled and reintroduced himself. When asked, Antonio said that just preferred to be called Toni but the doctor forced him to choose a spirit name as well so he went with Good, saying it in a way that implied a much deeper meaning to the curly-headed boy.

"Well, Brave, I'm going to have you lay up here on the table." He patted the sturdy surface twice. "Don't worry, everything's complete sanitary. I never forgot how to be a doctor, I'm still as good at it as I've ever been, actually. Ask Marxi. I was the one who brought him here on my shoulder that night and fixed him good as new."

"That was you?"

He nodded proudly. "Small world, isn't it?"

I sat on the table. "Incase this doesn't go so well and you nick a nerve or something… I request an amputation. I'd rather not have a unless pound of flesh hanging off me."

"Duly noted but I can assure you that you have nothing to worry about. I've done this operation a few times now."

"Have other people run away?"

"That's not for me to say. Most stay, two ounces lighter, some… disappear. Now, take off your shirt and lay on your back."

I did as instructed and focused on controlling my breathing which Antonio was couching me through as if I were a pregnant woman. Doctor Wise continued to assure me that it was going to be fine, even while he rubbed my shoulder with a cold alcohol swab and marked my skin with a pen. Antonio sat beside the table and held my hand, telling me I was okay and that he thought I was very brave.

There were no anesthetic other than a regular old Zimiplex. I didn't have the luxury of falling into a woozy, drug-induced sleep or even being drunk. After all, I still had a lot of fence jumping and running to do. I was instructed to give all on my attention to Antonio on the other side of the table who was rambling on to distract me. Regardless of how many words came out of his mouth, I was still fully away of the knife that had begun slicing through the soft flesh. The pain was bearable but not unnoticeable.

"Look here, look here." The green-eyed boy called when I attempted to glance toward the source of pain. I looked back at him. "Recite something for me, okay? A poem? I'd love a poem."

"I sit alone in whisper winds-" Just then, sharp pain hit me like a ton of bricks. I jerked my arm and it was held back down by the doctor. Antonio touched my face over and over, telling me to calm down but what he didn't know was that I loved it. For a split second, I forgot all about the revolution and death. For a split second, my brain was sent on over drive, giving no room to think about my parents or Marxi or Ludwig. The world was finally silent. "I sit alone in whisper winds…parallel to the sky."

During the procedure, there were many more moments like that. The chip was my first possession, implanted at birth. Naturally, my body had grown it' muscles and tissues around it which made for quite the tricky excavation. Every time a nerve was struck, it happened again and again I forgot, for a brief moment, how terrified I was of everything else. Although I wouldn't admit it, I was the tiniest bit disappointed when I heard he words, "Alright, kiddo, we're all done here."

Dr. Wise handed something to me. It took me a while to realize that the minuscule scrap of junk in my hand was my chip. It was a small, square, piece of plastic and metal. I guess I had assumed it would look as important as it was. That bit of trash was what gave me identity for years, it was my privilege. I was born to accommodate its information, I was its host for fifteen long years and now it was just lying there in my palm, exposed for its true insignificance. "You'll want to change the bandages every day for a week and clean the incision each time you change it. You need to be easy on that arm too. If you tear it open, there won't be anything I can do for you."

I touched the white bandages as Antonio talked with the doctor about sanitation. My armed still worked even though it was sore as hell, which I suppose was a good thing because two arms were better than one. I inspected the chip as well. Inside was a set of numbers and letters that said I was Lovino Vargas. Those numbers and letters spelled out my account, the digital record of my life. It knew what library books I had checked out, my education, my genetics, it was the thing that set me apart from every other pound of flesh who called himself Lovino Vargas. The only difference was that I had an identity bigger than my name. I was more than a compilation of proteins or a product of two sad people. I pinched the chip between my fingers and began to push at its weak spot until it squealed out and became two chips.

Right there, right in between my forefinger and thumb, l held the destroyed evidence that would suggest I had ever been a clone.

We left the house with some "Good bye"s and "Best wishes"s that felt more ironic than sincere. "Where do we go now?" I asked Antonio.

"First we have to pick up the packs from my house then we'll say good bye to Marxi and be on our way."

"Do we have to say goodbye? I hate that, you know I do."

"Lovino, this man was a good friend to you."

"I know, I know. It just… it hurts…"

"Of course it does."

"I don't want to see him. I don't want to see a dead man."

"With life so finite and death so infinite… I'd think it's more accurate to call every man a dead man rather than a live one."

"Don't turn my words around on me! I saw him die once, you know. The only difference is that I know it's coming this time."

"It's always coming, there's no need to be afraid of it."

"Death? Of course there is! It takes and never returns! It's a thief! It's waiting around every corner to capture the souls of innocents long before their time."

"That's not it at all! War and death always come together, leading us to believe that death is to be feared and hated but it's the opposite. You see, death is afraid of the humans. Death must be on-hand to see the destruction we create amongst ourselves. It must deal with endless hatred and fear from the humans, yet it can only watch and hope it gets better."

"You're saying you don't fear death?"

"No, that's ridiculous, of course I fear death but I've come to understand it as has Marxi. It's the people who reject the inevitable who have the real problems. After all, what's more guaranteed than death?"

"What if everything you've said is only true in theory? What if Marxi is a mess greater than we've ever seen? Do you think I could listen to him sob and beg and still be inclined to leave?"

"You're a very strong person, Lovino."

"I wish people would stop saying that."

"I couldn't say anything with more truth. Say good bye to Marxi, lend him some of your courage. Lord knows he needs it."

"I'll talk to him but I can't promise that any sort of spiritual enlightenment will follow."

The leather draw-string packs were behind his house, each stuffed with canteens of water, canned food, and a few basic survival needs. He said that he had scoped out the trail for a few miles on his bike and planted three stashes of supplies that we could get to later. When I asked him what is was like beyond the fence, he said simply, "Mysterious trees that conceal even deeper mysteries."

We found Marxi alone in the barn, smoking dryly and staring at the crates of ammo. He smiled wearily at the sight of us then pulled the cigarette from his lips. "You two should get out of here. I don't know if you've heard but there's going to be a war very soon."

"We thought we'd like to have one last good conversation with you." Antonio answered as we took seats beside him.

"You shouldn't have." He chuckled yet I couldn't ignore how grim he sounded.

"We came to say goodbye." I announced.

"Don't. Say good luck, say good ridden, just don't say goodbye. I hate that word."

"Fine, good ridden you dirty pig sty."

Antonio gave me an appalled look of utter befuddlement only to me more appalled and befuddled when Marxi broke out into rich, lively laughter, the kind that tore through depression. "I have missed you, Lovi, that I have." He raised the cigarette to his lips that were currently displaying a wide smile. He inhaled, closed his eyes in relaxation for a minute, then let a thin trail of smoke pour out from between his lips. "You're the only damn sap around here who isn't bawling in pity."

"Yeah, well…sorry."

"No, I like it. There's something so exciting about that spark of yours. Don't change, Little man, don't ever change."

"I don't think I can help it. I'm too tired to play that stupid game."

"What game?"

"The Change or Don't change game. People are so obsessed with that shit. Young people will do anything to look older and old people will do anything to look younger. If change is coming… why bother teasing it?"

"Right you are…" The boy took another long drag on the cigarette and stared forlornly at the barn door. "It's right out there." He declared, pointed to them. "Right outside those doors, change is waiting right there. That's why I'm all stuck up in here, I don't have your kind of courage."

"It's not courage so much as it is instinctual stupidity. Like fresh water salmon."

"What do you mean?"

"When salmon are ready to lay their eggs, they all go swimming up steam back to where there were born for no goddamn reason and in the same way… I think we're always looking for a way back to our roots. We just have to be as careless and determined as the stupid fishes. We just have to charge the stream with the hope that, even though we don't have a single idea what we're doing… that it will be the right thing to do."

"So young and so wise…"

"I'm not wise, I just don't want to waste time being afraid. I may not know where I'm going or how I'm going to get there and I may be scared as hell but I just trudge along. Life is about the journey, right?"

"That it is. I'll make mine too but first… I'm going to finish this cigarette. I'll take every blow they can throw at me but before that, I'm going to enjoy this one last cigarette."

"So is this where we part?"

He nodded slowly, exhaling another lungful of smoke. "I guess it is."

"That wasn't very long at all."

"No… I can't teach you anything you don't already know. I gave you a passion for the written word, I taught you rebellion and loss and time… what else can I give you?"

"Closure."

He smiled. "Like in a fairytale? That's a tall order, Little man."

"Just once. Teach me what it's like to say goodbye and not ache with every syllable."

"These are not the best circumstances for that. If it's a fairytale ending you want, I should be more of a prince, shouldn't I? I should have my hair brushed and my faced shaved and I shouldn't be nearly as pathetic. But I'll give it a shot, yeah? That is, if you still want me to."

I nodded so he beckoned me to stand then he lowered himself onto one knee in front of me in a princely style. "Lovino…Little man, once just a little boy. I remember you back when you were the smallest thing I had ever seen. When you were small and so wide-eyed that I feared for you every night. I knew the world would either smash you to bits or feed your strength and now I can proudly see that the latter is true. I left you so much bigger and wiser and stronger and when I returned… the tides were turned. Had I been younger, I believe I would have been just as trapped as poor Antonio. I'm glad that our fates did not mingle that way though. You're an addiction, Little one. I wouldn't have been able to get away, I had a hard enough time as it is."

"Is your idea of closer pure flattery? I thought you'd have read enough stories to know a good leaving speech. Come on now, what would a hero say the night of the battle? Give me that speech, that's the one I want to remember."

The boy smiled crookedly at me before rising and standing atop a barrel of hay, an arm outstretched in the victorious way I had remembered. I wasn't sure if it was because of the way the light was hitting with a warm grow or the way he held the pose so enthusiastically but none the less, he was transported back to his prime, back to his pride and glory. "Brothers!" He decreed with a wide smile stretched confidently over his face.

"Behind us are days of trouble and toil, behind us are the sins of our fathers and the fathers before them. All of us… all of us who stand here together in this very moment… we are a future created from the ruins of the past. It is by our hands that the scribe shall be written and by our swords that it shall be decreed.

Today is the day in which we will raise our fists and tell them that we will stand for no more. Today is the day that a monarchy is toppled and the rights of life are returned to the people. Today is our day, the first day after so many when we will decide our own fate. We will unsilence the voices of the meek. We will cease chastising ourselves for the fateful flaws lain upon us and instead stand tall with the knowledge that each imperfection is only a masterful calling-card of true perfection!

They say we are weak but we are strong! They say we are imbecilic but the truth is in our eyes! They say we are a product, we are created with ideals already in place! They call us outsiders or insiders, thieves or aristocrats, contaminated or pure. What say have they!? Can a person's nobility be measured on a triple beam balance? Can they create passion in a test tube? Can a child's first kiss be mapped out in algorithms?

Today we take back the right to live and the right to die! What follows is the right to pursue happiness in all shapes and sizes. We will give our children the right to be happy, a privilege forgotten under years of propaganda. We will revive happiness for all people! We, Brothers…we are the restless and the undiscouraged! Tell me Brothers, TELL ME…" He paused a moment to take a long breath and stare deeply into the eyes of each imaginary audience member. "How unquenchable is your thirst? How deep is your longing? Tell me, how badly do you burn for righteousness? How shallow is the hole in your gut? How strong is your need to fill it? How much would you give to appease it!?

Would you fight at my side, Bothers? Would you rise with me and reclaim the bounty that is ours!?"

Neither Antonio or I had an easy time coming up words to say afterwards as the blue-eyed boy hoped down from his soap box and sat. "I think you should go with that." Antonio said.

"Yeah, give them that speech." I agreed.

"Did you like it though? Was it closure enough?" He asked.

"Did you come up with that right on the spot?"

"Hell no." He laughed and scratched his prickly cheek. I momentary wondered if the same thing would happen to Antonio's cheeks when we were gone. "I'm too nervous to give a speech off my head, it would probably come out as a heap of mumbling and nonsense."

"You used to do it all the time."

"This time is different."

"How so?"

"Well… for starters… my audience will be looking to me for consolation in this, their most vulnerable time. It's hard to have those eyes on you. They're always asking questions you don't have the answer to."

"Yeah but… I think you're up to the task. If anyone should lead them tonight, it should be you."

"You really think so?"

"I'm not a liar. If people are born with a fate-declared role, yours is to be right here right now. You were meant to do this. All the while I knew you, you were living up the small steps into this one bigger moment."

He drew on his forgotten cigarette, a tearful look pricking his eyes, a gentle smile caressing his face that glowed by the dim light of the lamp. "I'm going to miss you, Little man." The chucked warmly beneath his breath. "I'm going to miss you, Lovino."

"Come on…" I forced a smile on and nudged his arm. "We're walking the same woods just on different paths."

"So this is the end, then."

"Not the end, things hardly ever end. Saying this was the end would suggest that there was no evidence of its existence left. We have memories, so it's not the end. It's just… a conclusion."

He laughed, the sadness still wafting through the air like an impertinent odor, refusing to be forgotten. "To a conclusion." He toasted his cigarette and took a long drag before handing it to me. I put it the tiniest bit between my lips and inhaled which resulted in me pulling it out and hack up a cloud of ashy smoke. I handed it to Antonio only to see that he had the same reaction. The rebel laughed at us and kissed our cheeks, mumbling "Good luck" as we drifted off into the night. We treaded through the soft forest floor like dogs at the feet of a storm, cowering with anticipation for the large clamp of thunder that we were just sure was waiting. The mossy smell and cool air chilled us in a way that made our stomachs churn. Marxi hadn't brought the sweet fairytale closure that I had read about but it would sick to think of a happiness like that in a time like this. As much as he smiled and as much as he filled us with promising vows of courage, the restless scent of death still encircled us predatorily.

"So what do we do now?" I asked the curly-headed boy, my words feeling uncomfortable in my throat. I just wanted to say something, to make some movement away from the stillness and uneasiness of the moment.

"Fence." The words were cold and seemed painful to pronounce. I took his hand and wrapped my fingers against his tightly. It was always a comfort to have his flesh against mine, to have a physical connection that somehow meant so much more than the exchange of cells. He smiled what he could.

"Fence." I agreed.

The walk was a slow one made slower by the looming reality of the fateful night. To comfort my racing heart, I ran my fingers over the little bird pin I wore under my collar. Antonio noticed this twitch. "You kept that thing?"

"Of course. What'd you think I would do with it?" I mumbled, almost choking over my words once or twice.

"I have yours too." He lifted his jacket a bit to reveal a dull blue ribbon knotted around a belt loop. "I wouldn't forget it."

"Do you ever feel like… things have memories? And… they're waiting for you to touch them so they can tell you what they remember?"

"Of course. That's the way it is for humans, isn't it? They want to give a story."

"But they are humans and objects are objects."

"That's hardly a valid argument. They're cells, we're cells. They exist in this universe, we exist in this universe. We share time and space and reality so why not memory too? Everything is completely the same and also totally unique."

"You think?"

He nodded. "All the deaths before us and after us are also our deaths, their memories are our memories… we're always living a life composed of every life. Maybe I'm crazy and I'm mumbling nonsense or maybe everything is interconnection with this amazing string of life."

"You'll have to teach our children all of your philosophical theories because I can hardly manage a word of them."

"You think we'll have children?"

"I think so, yes. Though, it depends on whether you'd be a capable father or not."

"I would love them very much."

"Yes, but would you fill their heads with questions regarding the universe and life and love? Would you turn our children into raging revolutionaries? Would they long to die under the sword of justice by age five? Would they break my heart more than I can bare?"

"What do you think would be best for them?"

"It would be best if we built them a little house very far away from the world and kept their eyes away from poetry."

"You don't mean that."

I sighed. "No, I don't. it's just… the world is moving too fast. How do you teach a child to weather the storm?"

"There is no definitive answer for such a question."

"Well, I'll not bother myself with coming up with one today."

"No, not today. Tomorrow we will solve the problems of the world but today we worry about tasks of our own."

"What will change when we leave? Will the world have noticed our absence? Will it think badly of us for leaving the rebels behind?"

"No, the world will play on with the story. We will exist and the rebels will exist but neither of us will know the story of the other."

"I should think I'll be restless about it."

"Why? No future has yet been written, it is a beautiful game of oblivion."

"I won't know what became of the rebels! I won't know if the city fell or dominated. I won't ever know the true history of the next few hours."

"I think… that's a part of life that I don't fend off. There is something so exhilarating yet soothing about the oblivion."

"So you're telling me to forget about this world?"

"Don't forget, no. The memory is a terrible thing to waste. Just live with the curiosity and accept the endless possibilities of such a great story."

We ceased walking when a six-foot-tall chain-link fence came into view. I never thought my destiny would look so thin and insignificant when finally facing it but there it was, a neat wall of crossed wires. I thought for a moment that the danger would suddenly make itself know in the form of a troll or vicious dog but it remained a fence, true to its name.

On this side was my life; all the memories I had ever had, all the people I had ever met and loved. On this side of the fence was my house with the clean white walls and ominous glowing screens. This was where I was born to my mother and taught by my father. I had played in the pool with my friends and burned my hand to save a book I hated. Here was Ludwig who I had fought with on numerous occasions but also laughed with and cried with. Here was Gilbert and Rosalind and Harzetta… here were the memories I had made with Antonio, the sweet nights of comfort and gentle whispers beneath birch trees. This place was Mill and Marxi, this place was and . This side was my whole world.

On the other side of the fence laid millions of unexplored worlds that I could not even begin to fathom. Behind the geometric rod pattern of the fence were lives with stories greater than all the ones I had ever read. There were creatures and things I had never known of. Beyond the gate was a universe of unreachable depth. I would know no one but my companion, I would remember none of the places or faces and I would have no safe place but in Antonio's arms.

I turned to the boy who was already looking at me. In his eyes I saw myself reflected, suspended in two black orbs and what I realized was… he was just as afraid as I was. The boy was just as sick in his stomach and sweaty on his palms. He was leaving his friends and family too, he was leaving his familiar soil and entrusting it to a war-torn city just as I was.

"Antonio…" I hummed, flexing my fingers slightly harder around his. "Antonio… I want to say that… I love you. In case I never said it in plain English… I just… know that I love you. I'm going to be with you right now, I'm going to be with you when we're going over that fence, I'm going to be with you when we put our feet on the soil and start our new lives."

"Lovino…" I realized that the boy had tears in his eyes, probably a product of fear, anxiety, and happiness. "Lovino… Oh my god, Lovino." He laughed breathily and whipped his eyes harshly. "I love you more than you'll ever know."

I pulled his face to mine and kissed him one last time, moving slowly but with no lack of passion. Fire scorched my heart with a sudden raging desire to be there for the boy, to protect him and keep him close to me. I wanted to be there for him like he was there for me, I wanted be at his side every step of the treacherous journey. Judging by the way he kissed me, I could tell the feeling was completely mutual.

We pulled away from each other carefully and unraveled the arms that held us flush together. The rest of our conversation was silent. We exchanged looks as if it were our own secret language. The fence, when I finally touched it, was cold. The memories it had were cold as well. The gate had only ever seen repression. It only knew how to hold things in, to keep people trapped, to separate worlds.

I worked my feet up like Antonio had shown me, placing a foot in each hole and climbing like a ladder. When I reached the top, the point at which I would have to turn and descend, I gave myself a minute to look out on our new world. Beneath me was a wilderness of foliage too dense to read. Above me were sprits of fire splattered across a black sky, all flocking around to listen to the full white moon as he told his stories.

I glanced back for the last time. So much destruction and yet… so much beauty. I guess that's why they call it a war. Neither destruction nor beauty out-powered the other. Where there was hate, love followed. Where there was poverty, there was charity. Death and community, destruction and creation. For as long as there were people, it would never end. We would always need to ruin and we would always come back around to build atop the rubble.

I looked back down to Antonio who was raising an eyebrow at me which I responded to my giving a small yet confident nod. He quirked a smile and I did the same. With that, the two of us threw ourselves down, bracing our knees and landing firmly for the first time on the free soil that would be ours for treading on.

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I cannot take credit for creating this story. Its creation, I suppose, was the work of many people, things, and forces that I have never come to understand. I relay it to you as truth because that's what it is, Dear Reader. I knew all of these people, saw all of these things, and lived its words with in own flesh. Now, whether I died or not is a completely irrelevant question and I'd certainly be quite offended to be asked it. I refuse to enclose what became of my friends for reasons that I hope you'll understand. After all, I am just a character in a larger plot that you, Dear Reader, have given life to and you yourself are like me. You know what it is to be alive, you know what it is to have passion for the excitement and lure of a story and that in itself is life.

THE CONCLUSION