Gap Filler: Postcard to Nowhere
Model Behavior Gap Filler. Korra is a having a difficult time being honest with herself when she must complete an assignment by Kya to write a postcard to a loved one. TW: Depictions of depression and suicidal ideation
TW: Depictions of depression and suicidal ideation
"Why do I have to do this? This is stupid!"
"It's not stupid. Sometimes letting a loved one know how you feel is a release you didn't know you needed."
Korra starred at the postcard sitting on her desk. A stamp was already fastened in place in the top right-hand corner. The address to the recipient was listed out, and yet she still couldn't figure out what exactly she wanted to say. Well, her thoughts always had something to say, she just couldn't properly express them. Or rather, she was too afraid to.
Writing the actual words out would make them more real. The whispers and jeers that constantly fill her mind were hypnotic, constantly causing her to fall into their trance. Even with the tribe filled with bright blue hues and glittering white from the snow, everything she was gray. Her parents' hugs and attention often left her wanting more, wanting to go back to the carefree headstrong little girl who viewed bending as play or as a sport. Back to when things were simple.
Korra picked up her pen and began to write. It was as if her arm was moving on its own. While shutting out all the static noise, she allowed her arm to move, allowed her some of her inner most feelings to bleed out, and become real, preserved in ink.
Korra,
Why are you still here? Maybe Zaheer was right and the world would be better without the Avatar. Without you.
Korra
A quiet knock interrupted the silence in the room. Korra quickly scooped up the postcard and slipped it underneath her thigh. She reached into the pack of postcards on her desk and pulled out a new one. "Come in," she called out.
Kya gently opened the door to her room before stepping inside. She regarded Korra with a gentle smile, before gesturing to the chair next to the desk. Korra nodded once, watching as Kya closed the door behind her before taking the seat.
Kya half smiled before reaching out and carefully cupping Korra's right cheek. "How's it going?" she asked. Korra relaxed at her touch. She closed her eyes, relishing in the ability to feel.
"I'm still trying to figure out what I should say to myself," Korra answered. She placed her pen down onto the desk with a sigh.
"You can say whatever you want to say." Kya dropped her hand, before placing it into her lap. "The point of this exercise is to understand how you are really felling, no holding back."
"I never hold back," Korra quickly answered.
"Maybe physically, but emotionally, you're never really honest with yourself."
"That's not true!" Korra said loudly, shaking her head. Kya couldn't help but smile at the Avatar, as her furrowed eyebrows and slight pout reflected that of an angry seven-year-old. "I admitted to Tenzin how afraid I was of Amon and-"
"I didn't mean to upset you, Korra," Kya quickly interrupted. She held up her palm, quickly silencing Korra, who's chest had puffed up, wanting to say more. "What I'm really trying to say is that while it is difficult to tell others how you are feeling, it's even more difficult to admit it to yourself." Kya looked at the ground, letting out a small laugh when she noticed how many crumpled up postcards littered the floor around Korra's wheelchair.
"How is this going to help me learn to walk again?" Korra demanded.
"Healing your emotions, your mind, and your spirit, is more important than re-learning to walk right now."
"No, it isn't!" she insisted. Kya raised an eyebrow she noticed Korra's blue eyes take on a shine. "The world is in tatters after Zaheer and the Red Lotus. I must fix it."
"Korra, have you ever wished you were a normal child?" Kya asked.
Korra paused. She quickly shifted her gaze away from Kya and turned to look out the window. Naga was running around, jumping happily, and gnawing at the snow that had begun to fall. "All the time," she admitted.
"Then, maybe this is your time to do so."
"How am I normal if I can't walk?" Korra snapped.
Kya raised an eyebrow before frowning. "…That has to be one of the rudest things I've ever heard you say."
Korra quickly slumped in her chair. Still refusing to look over at Kya, she began to pick at a loose thread on her shirt. "I'm sorry," she muttered.
"I know."
"I didn't mean it."
"Yes, you did," Kya answered. She reached out and placed her hand on top of Korra's, pausing her motions. Korra shifted her hand so that she embraced Kya's. "You don't have to apologize for how you're feeling. Humans have complex emotions for a reason."
"Kya, have you ever had big feelings?" Korra quickly asked. Kya waited patiently as Korra gathered her thoughts. "Have you ever wondered why you were put on this planet when you don't ever feel like you truly belong, or fit? Why you're here when it feels like nothing works out the way you want it to?"
After a few moments of silence, Korra turned to look over at Kya. The older woman's face fell into a look of sadness. She began fiddling with the crescent moon shaped pendant on her necklace. "Yes, quite often," she whispered.
"How do you stop your thoughts?"
Kya dropped her hand, the sadness slowly leaving her face. Her usual smile and laugh lines returned. "I address them and let them linger for a bit, before letting them go. Eventually, things will change, and then I will be able to feel like I have a place," Kya answered. "You will too."
"My place is the Avatar."
"Your place is to be Korra, the daughter of Senna and Tonraq, friend to a lot of people and to all of those in Republic City…who just so happens to be the Avatar." Kya squeezed Korra's hand. She then shifted her focus to the envelop propped up against the wall on the desk. "Did you read her letter?"
"I did."
"You haven't responded yet?"
"No." Korra shook her head. "It's already hard for me to write this postcard to myself." She angrily gestured to the many crumpled up postcards littering the ground. "How am I to respond to her letter? Or Mako's and Bolin's emails? Or Tenzin's phonecalls?" her voice cracked.
"You'll do it in time."
"Kya, I don't feel like myself," Korra admitted. She took a deep breath, one that was broken up by small sobs. "I feel like something is missing or broken. I appreciate everything you and my parents are doing, and everyone else here, but its hard to be happy," she whimpered. "I don't remember what that feeling is. I feel like ice. I feel frozen."
Korra felt a tear tickle the corner of her eye closest to her nose. She quickly reached up and wiped it with a knuckle of her free hand, before turning away. Kyra reached out and grabbed her by the chin, carefully moving her head back. "Keep going," she urged.
"I feel like nothing matters. The sun is shining all the time, and I don't feel warmth." Korra sniffed. "I'm tried…so tired. I'm tired of people having to help me. I'm tired of people talking around me and about me, but not to me. I'm tired of being helpless."
"Say that again," Kya prompted.
"I'm tired of being helpless?" Korra asked.
Kya chuckled before leaning over and placed a light kiss to Korra's forehead. "Then if anything, when you're ready, help yourself."
Korra nodded before closing her eyes and allowing Kya to wipe away a few tears with her thumbs. She smiled when she felt Kya kiss her forehead once more. Kya quietly excused herself before making her way to the door.
"Do I have to finish this?" Korra asked, picking up the postcard.
"Yes, Korra, it's kind of like homework."
"I don't like homework," she whined.
"I know," Kya smiled warmly. As soon as she left the room, Korra let out a loud sigh. She looked out the window once more, watching as Naga rolled into the snow and began to wiggle around on her back. Snow continued to fall, covering her fur in a light layer.
"Naga always finds happiness in the simple things," Korra said to herself, "maybe one day I can."
With that, Korra reached underneath her thigh and ripped the postcard in half, and then in half once more before letting the pieces fall to the floor. Korra then eyed the letter from Asami, half-smiling as her eyes slowly traced her friends handwriting in spelling out her name.
Korra sighed once more before picking up her pen and began to write out a few sentences. Once completed, she carefully re-read the postcard before tucking it into her pocket.
"Mom, come here," Korra called out. She waited patiently as she heard two sets of footsteps rushing to her room. A moment later, her mother and father appeared at her doorway.
"Are you okay, honey?" Senna asked.
"I'm fine. Will you lie down with me?" Korra asked, gesturing towards the bed. Senna smiled before nodding. Tonraq carefully lifted Korra out of her wheelchair before placing her onto the bed. "Thanks, dad" Korra said sleepily. Senna carefully laid down next to her daughter, reaching out and tucking a loose strand of hair behind her daughter's ear, before lightly scratching her scalp.
Korra relaxed at her mother's touch and allowed her eyes to close. She began to even out her breathing as she thought about the words she just wrote.
Korra
When I'm ready to be me again, will you let me?
Korra
