Author's Notes: Sorry I don't update frequently. This story takes forever to write though. So just stick with me... And as always, my thanks to Kat for putting up with me o_0
~*~
The sky was an infused mixture of pale colors. The sun was a vapid yellow-orange against a streaming pink and violet sky. It was the sign of another long and grueling day that had come to a close. He heard the giggling of boys behind him. They had originally been afraid of him, but within a week's time, they followed him. He was prey to them; unsuspecting and uneducated about their customs and beliefs. He felt like such an outsider, and he was treated that way, within reason. The people either feared or respected him; not both. His feet dragged along the sandy ground, creating a mound of dust where he placed. His shirt was soaked onto his back from sweat. The temperature only seemed to escalade to unimaginable heights. It didn't make his trial any better. The smell of rotting flesh and death followed him everywhere. Never had he ever experienced so much death and decay. He held a newborn baby in his arms today and watched as it died. A little girl that had years in front of her, who could have given joy to so many. Her lungs forced her chest to move up and down, little breaths. Coughing, wheezing, her skin turned blue and purple. Her eyes closed. Seconds and she was gone. A chill ran down his spine. The world was exploring different planets, spending millions of dollars there. Yet people on Earth were dying because they do not have clean water or enough food. Life and death had been presented to him on a silver platter in their most natural form. He would never go back to the same person he was before.
The sun was still visible when he reached his sanctuary. He walked around to the back, being met by a round of laughter. He stood in the shadow of the house, watching her. Her hair was let down for the first time since he had seen her. It fell to her mid-back. The eyes he had seen that night were gone. A genuine smile made the wrinkles on her face vanish. The little girl ran after her, and she dodged her small body. She picked the little girl up and swung her around in circles before collapsing on the dry grass. She held the girl on her lap, playing with her hands. The woman whispered to the little child, words of love and devotion. He watched her, the mother she had finally become. The strap of her shirt fell and the girl gently picked it up and placed it on her mother's beautiful body. He knew the girl idolized her. She tried to copy her graceful movements; the simple elegance of her step. He walked from the shadows. She heard him. Her hand reached up and motioned him toward the spot next to her. His feet wandered aimlessly toward her until he finally was in close proximity and collapsed on the cold, hard, uncomfortable dirt. She stood the child up and gave her a kiss on the cheek. She pushed the nimble body away toward the house. He had only seen them together at night; a daughter yearning for her mother.
She watched the little girl lumper up the stairs before turning back toward him. Her eyes held dark circles under them; he could see the immense pain that she held inside. She had to hold it all inside. There was no other way. He remembered the same face, years before. She was different: full of life. There had been bad moments, but she held onto that hope. He helped her through it all. He gave her strength when the worst of the storm raged upon her fragile form. Now she was living life after the storm. Life after him. And she was living. He hadn't expected her to end up a million miles away from Chicago; painful and alone. He had always thought she would move on; any man to love her would be the luckiest man on the planet. Yet she gave up everything she had; and came here. He would go home. He knew she would never leave. She looked at him with tormenting eyes; she seemed to be crying out for a savior that would never come. He reflexively reached up and brushed the strands of hair away from her face. He felt like he was touching a part of her soul. She closed her eyes, turning away from him slowly.
"How do you do this every day?"
He watched her shrug her shoulders, pushing her hair back once again. She seemed at a loss for words, unable to describe the horrors she dealt with every day for the past years.
"You get used to it."
Her voice was low, mixing in with the gentle breeze and being carried away to lands beyond the hell they were in.
"You never get used to death."
She looks up at the sky, finding something to relate to. She wants to spill her soul, but the words just won't come out.
"You learn to accept it."
He let the silence settle between them. All that could be heard for miles around was the two of their hearts beating in union with one another. It was almost the perfect fairy tale to him; he almost forgot that only steps away there were babies, children, adults: human beings fighting for their lives. They didn't know when their last breathe would be, whether they would die alone in the middle of the night. Or if they would slowly wither away in unbelievable pain for weeks to come.
"You've changed."
He saw no expression on her face. A simple plain fact that he made known. She had changed, changed into an emotionally destroyed woman; yet she was stronger. She had built up those stone-cold fortress walls again; they were permanent. He would never break them down. He had been a part of that extirpation.
"People don't change."
Her voice gave out at the end. She wanted to make herself believe her own words, her own lies. He wouldn't let her. She was worth so much more than she would ever know.
"You have."
His words came out stable and authoritative. He wanted to make her believe his words, not her own ideals. She never reached her maximum potential; too afraid of taking a chance; of letting herself love. He let himself love her; and he took the hardest, deepest, most wretched fall. He had never stopped.
"People change physically, mentally, emotionally. Their ideas, dreams, hopes can take new routes. But people never change completely. I'm still the same self-depreciative, miserable person you left that night."
He watched her ease herself off the ground and brush off the grass that stuck to her body. She started a short, quick trot toward the security of the house. He mentally debated what to do. Would any words make her realize her true destiny? Would he be able to get through to her? He stood up and rushed after her, the rough grass digging into his bare feet. His eyes stung from wind and dust. His body ached from the excessive heat. He reached her, the most work he had been able to do in weeks. He grabbed her arm. His grasp exceeded wrapping around it. She was so unnaturally thin. She froze in her spot, her hand instantly numbed. It's like she's never been touched by a human being in her life.
"I never meant to leave."
She snatched her wrist away from him, nursing it in her other hand. The spot that he grabbed burned deep under her skin, sending shocks through her whole body. He could see the uneasiness in her face, the hurt etched on everything that she was.
"You never meant to come back."
She brushed him off herself and ran up the flight of stairs. She would never be his again. She would never open herself up to him; they would never have the same relationship they had. He grabbed hold of the wooden railing and carefully maneuvered his body to a sitting position. He had never gone back.
~*~
The sky was an infused mixture of pale colors. The sun was a vapid yellow-orange against a streaming pink and violet sky. It was the sign of another long and grueling day that had come to a close. He heard the giggling of boys behind him. They had originally been afraid of him, but within a week's time, they followed him. He was prey to them; unsuspecting and uneducated about their customs and beliefs. He felt like such an outsider, and he was treated that way, within reason. The people either feared or respected him; not both. His feet dragged along the sandy ground, creating a mound of dust where he placed. His shirt was soaked onto his back from sweat. The temperature only seemed to escalade to unimaginable heights. It didn't make his trial any better. The smell of rotting flesh and death followed him everywhere. Never had he ever experienced so much death and decay. He held a newborn baby in his arms today and watched as it died. A little girl that had years in front of her, who could have given joy to so many. Her lungs forced her chest to move up and down, little breaths. Coughing, wheezing, her skin turned blue and purple. Her eyes closed. Seconds and she was gone. A chill ran down his spine. The world was exploring different planets, spending millions of dollars there. Yet people on Earth were dying because they do not have clean water or enough food. Life and death had been presented to him on a silver platter in their most natural form. He would never go back to the same person he was before.
The sun was still visible when he reached his sanctuary. He walked around to the back, being met by a round of laughter. He stood in the shadow of the house, watching her. Her hair was let down for the first time since he had seen her. It fell to her mid-back. The eyes he had seen that night were gone. A genuine smile made the wrinkles on her face vanish. The little girl ran after her, and she dodged her small body. She picked the little girl up and swung her around in circles before collapsing on the dry grass. She held the girl on her lap, playing with her hands. The woman whispered to the little child, words of love and devotion. He watched her, the mother she had finally become. The strap of her shirt fell and the girl gently picked it up and placed it on her mother's beautiful body. He knew the girl idolized her. She tried to copy her graceful movements; the simple elegance of her step. He walked from the shadows. She heard him. Her hand reached up and motioned him toward the spot next to her. His feet wandered aimlessly toward her until he finally was in close proximity and collapsed on the cold, hard, uncomfortable dirt. She stood the child up and gave her a kiss on the cheek. She pushed the nimble body away toward the house. He had only seen them together at night; a daughter yearning for her mother.
She watched the little girl lumper up the stairs before turning back toward him. Her eyes held dark circles under them; he could see the immense pain that she held inside. She had to hold it all inside. There was no other way. He remembered the same face, years before. She was different: full of life. There had been bad moments, but she held onto that hope. He helped her through it all. He gave her strength when the worst of the storm raged upon her fragile form. Now she was living life after the storm. Life after him. And she was living. He hadn't expected her to end up a million miles away from Chicago; painful and alone. He had always thought she would move on; any man to love her would be the luckiest man on the planet. Yet she gave up everything she had; and came here. He would go home. He knew she would never leave. She looked at him with tormenting eyes; she seemed to be crying out for a savior that would never come. He reflexively reached up and brushed the strands of hair away from her face. He felt like he was touching a part of her soul. She closed her eyes, turning away from him slowly.
"How do you do this every day?"
He watched her shrug her shoulders, pushing her hair back once again. She seemed at a loss for words, unable to describe the horrors she dealt with every day for the past years.
"You get used to it."
Her voice was low, mixing in with the gentle breeze and being carried away to lands beyond the hell they were in.
"You never get used to death."
She looks up at the sky, finding something to relate to. She wants to spill her soul, but the words just won't come out.
"You learn to accept it."
He let the silence settle between them. All that could be heard for miles around was the two of their hearts beating in union with one another. It was almost the perfect fairy tale to him; he almost forgot that only steps away there were babies, children, adults: human beings fighting for their lives. They didn't know when their last breathe would be, whether they would die alone in the middle of the night. Or if they would slowly wither away in unbelievable pain for weeks to come.
"You've changed."
He saw no expression on her face. A simple plain fact that he made known. She had changed, changed into an emotionally destroyed woman; yet she was stronger. She had built up those stone-cold fortress walls again; they were permanent. He would never break them down. He had been a part of that extirpation.
"People don't change."
Her voice gave out at the end. She wanted to make herself believe her own words, her own lies. He wouldn't let her. She was worth so much more than she would ever know.
"You have."
His words came out stable and authoritative. He wanted to make her believe his words, not her own ideals. She never reached her maximum potential; too afraid of taking a chance; of letting herself love. He let himself love her; and he took the hardest, deepest, most wretched fall. He had never stopped.
"People change physically, mentally, emotionally. Their ideas, dreams, hopes can take new routes. But people never change completely. I'm still the same self-depreciative, miserable person you left that night."
He watched her ease herself off the ground and brush off the grass that stuck to her body. She started a short, quick trot toward the security of the house. He mentally debated what to do. Would any words make her realize her true destiny? Would he be able to get through to her? He stood up and rushed after her, the rough grass digging into his bare feet. His eyes stung from wind and dust. His body ached from the excessive heat. He reached her, the most work he had been able to do in weeks. He grabbed her arm. His grasp exceeded wrapping around it. She was so unnaturally thin. She froze in her spot, her hand instantly numbed. It's like she's never been touched by a human being in her life.
"I never meant to leave."
She snatched her wrist away from him, nursing it in her other hand. The spot that he grabbed burned deep under her skin, sending shocks through her whole body. He could see the uneasiness in her face, the hurt etched on everything that she was.
"You never meant to come back."
She brushed him off herself and ran up the flight of stairs. She would never be his again. She would never open herself up to him; they would never have the same relationship they had. He grabbed hold of the wooden railing and carefully maneuvered his body to a sitting position. He had never gone back.