My Heart Doth Wander
Chapter 21 : Maybe
Recall the deeds as if they're all
Someone else's atrocious stories now
Now you stand reborn before us all; so glad to see you well.
And not to pull your halo down around your neck,
And tug you to the ground...
But I'm more than just a little curious
How you plan to go about making your amends
To the dead.
"The Noose" – A Perfect Circle
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Nightfall was the black paint smeared upon the canvas, covering the stark white and hiding the imperfections – smudged fingerprints and stains. Everyone looked beautiful in the dark. Even things with vile memories attached gained a strange elegance in the moonlight.
She, robed in black cotton, and barefooted, stepped past the glistening fish bones scattered near the Great River. The smooth curves and spikes of ivory lay upon the ground, and she thought they looked lovely. She could almost forget the fish they had belonged to; the fish they had dragged to the shore and watched as they flopped helplessly, dying.
This morning seemed a decade ago. She pushed back the hood of her robe. She was safe from the eyes of Knothole's inhabitants now. Onward she went, traveling a familiar path. It led to the dark city. She had rarely gone there without a companion and tonight was no different. She had two, one seen and one unseen. One, the ornate box tucked under her arm...the dead man. And the other, nestled closer to her mind, a blanketing warmth...the entity Cu Chulainne.
-Do you think this is wise, Sally?-
"On the contrary. I think it's quite unwise." She pulled her hood back up; the cold breeze was playing about her ears. "And that's why it might work." She gritted her teeth against the next words. "It's unexpected. Snively might see that I...well...that I have a better...erm...with him."
-Understanding?- Cu supplied. –Compassion? Empathy? You finally have had some glimpse of his pain.-
Sally thought she detected, for the slip of a moment, a hint of criticism in Cu's voice.
'It's supposed to be impartial.' Her hackles bristled on end.
"I don't feel sorry for him."
-Then why do this?-
"It isn't for him. It's for everyone. I could care less about him."
-But you have seen that he suffers-
"SO WHAT?" She yelled aloud, for there was no one around to hear but the night-birds and nocturnal critters. "I don't know why you think that matters, Cu, I really don't! You think, just because Snively has some problems that he's excused from doing whatever he damn well pleases? He isn't! I have problems too, Cu, but do you see me trying to kill people?"
-You are of different constitutions...-
"Don't give me that. Snively knows what he's doing is wrong, and he just doesn't care. I don't get you, sometimes. The guy is evil and yet you still say we should all just pat him on the head and forgive him...Please!"
-You don't intend to harm him tonight.-
Sally didn't say anything. The box was clutched tighter to her side, pressed against her ribs that had begun to show more prominently over the past week. Even now, after skipping supper again, she still didn't feel hungry. She felt hollow. Any sustenance she might consume would just turn to dust inside her, or maybe it would get lost in the emptiness.
-You will allow me to heal him?-
"You even think about that, and I'll leave you in this field." The squirrel halted in her tracks. "Seriously."
-If you do not wish it, then I shall not, Sally.- The entity made a sighing sound. –But it would make things much simpler for you.-
She laughed bitterly. "I don't think so, Cu."
-You will not even entertain the notion?-
"No." It was uttered staunchly, even as her mind comprehended the scenario. A healed Snively, cleansed of all his demons and their ability to spawn more. A good man (which in itself was incomprehensible, Snively being made into a good worthy man?) But Cu claimed it could do it. So, there he would be, a good pure man. She wouldn't be able, not in good conscience, to harm him, even when he undoubtly deserved it.
-I do not seek to pardon him. I only wish to heal him.-
'I won't have it.' She could see the city's spires and towers, pinpointed with light.
No way could she stand that man being given shortcuts. If he truly wanted to change, then he would come to them in repentance, to face his punishment courageously and willingly. He would heal his own self, and then, and only then, might Sally find it fit to call him a decent man. And the chances of that, she scoffed, were still slim.
-I will not go against your wishes.-
'Good.'
They did not exchange further words the whole way across the desolate wasteland between the forest and the city. She swore it gained another inch of the forest every day. When she finally reached the outskirts of the city, her boots and lower legs were coated with the gray dust that blanketed the ground. She brushed them off in disgust.
-Now what, Sally?-
"The tricky part." She kept to the shadows, sliding through the side-streets. A shudder rippled through her as she imagined coming upon the Mobians that had died here during the fateful mission. Hadn't one been decapitated? "Getting in."
She approached the citadel. Gazing up, she saw techbots suspended high above the ground, repairing the askew balcony.
"Maybe I'll go right up to the front door." She snickered, because even if she wanted to, it was impossible with the broken stone leg of Robotnik blocking the way. "Your statue isn't looking too good," she told the box of ash. A fit of mad giggles took her by surprise and she muffled them quickly with her hand.
-Keep yourself together.-
She scoffed. She was together. A jigsaw puzzle pieced with superglue. Her pretty picture wasn't falling apart anytime soon.
Another peal of giggles overtook her, distorted by her clasping hand.
-Sally...-
'Sssh. Look.'
Opening its petal-like appendages, casting its red eye toward her, came a SpyEye.
"How convenient."
It approached her like a lost puppy, twirling around her in delight. She reached out and stilled it before her face, where it hovered, fixated on her.
She stared deeply into the shining red core, knowing her face would appear on the monitors within the heart of his fortress. The laughter had died within her. The box under her arm felt like it was filled with lead. "Snively," she said, candidly, imploringly. "I'm here to speak to you."
She awaited his response in tense silence, not daring to look away from the camera. She was statue-still for what seemed like an eternity. Cu assured her it had only been three minutes.
She tried again. "I'm not here to fight. I have something important to show you, Snively, something very important."
A voice purred from the speaker on the bottom of the camera. It made Sally's skin tingle and she took in a breath. That woman didn't just have an effect on her lover. She affected everyone with her silky, sensual-without-trying presence. "A dangerous place to take a midnight stroll, Sally."
"Casssar."
"Yes, we know each other's names already," the ermine's voice was lush in amusement. "What do you wish from my Black Flower?"
"To speak to him."
"Are you here to harm him?" The voice had scarcely changed, but there was electricity behind it, a dangerous voltage running below the surface. Sally felt her body lock up; she had no doubts that the ermine's magic could reach this far.
"No."
"And what of Cu Chulainne?"
The squirrel jumped. "How did-"
"You would never come here on such an endeavor without IT."
"You're right," Sally admitted, deciding the best path with Casssar would be complete honesty. "I have brought Cu with me...for protection and nothing more. Neither Cu or I intend to hurt Snively or you."
Sally could picture Casssar, sprawled out in the green throne, her long legs crossed over the chair-arm and her claws nonchalantly picking dirt out of one another. A long silence stretched out.
"Casssar?"
"He's asleep."
"Oh." That was all Sally could utter.
There was another extended period of silence and then Casssar's voice returned, slicing through the dank air. Sally had turned to leave, the box weighing heavier, her thoughts descending into raging criticism. So stupid to think she could come here and...
"Stay where you are. I will come out and get you. Black Flower has agreed to see you."
Faintly, in the background, she thought she heard his hateful voice sneering, "Good...maybe I can KILL her now..."
-Sally. This is not wise.-
'We've already gone through this. Just...watch my back, alright?'
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The swishy black tail, crowned with fur of snow white, led Sally down stark metal corridors. Everyway she turned, it was all the same scenery, until she was sure they were lost somewhere in the monolith of the Command Center. Casssar, however, seemed to know where they were going. She turned only once to ensure the Princess was following, her single exposed fang gleaming in the low light and her muted green eyes narrowed thoughtfully.
Dear Journal,
This is psychotic, to think that I was walking there, in the heart of Robotropolis, behind the lover of my enemy...and feeling... kinship with her. Maybe it was because Casssar showed me no malice, only an odd sort of curiosity. She didn't even ask what I wanted to talk about with her beloved ' Black Flower'. What an appropriate name for the bastard. Though I think Rotten Flower might work better. Dead flower, molted petals.
I felt like we were both tied up in Snively's dark tangling vines, and from the curve of Casssar's lips and even the way she walked, I could somehow tell that not all was peaceful between the two of them. I could just tell, innately...maybe it's because of my connection with Sonic. I can see things between a couple that other people can't.
But the difference between us is that Casssar wants to be there.
I was compelled to ask her all sorts of questions. Some of them were straightforward. Like: Why do you love him?
And: Do you hate us?
But then there were the weird ones like:
How does it feel when he kisses you?
What kind of things does he whisper in your ear?
It was really sick thinking those things. I was hoping Cu wasn't looking into my thoughts and hearing that. I know Cu Chulainne wouldn't care. It would just say I was still affected by Snively from way back when Cu made me fall in love with him (Which still disgusts me to this day!) But I think that's utter crap. There's no way that could still be affecting me. No...there's something else...something deeper than that. I really should ask Cu about it one of these days...
But back to what happened, Journal, there I was, pausing beside Casssar's lithe ebony body as she opened the double doors that led to the Command Center. I had only tred those sacred floors a few times and I felt a thrill of fear. I was thinking, my heart hammering very hard, that perhaps tonight the war would end and my world would fall apart.
Falling apart would be a good thing. Making a mess to clean a mess. Rearranging the pieces into a more cohesive whole and gluing them that way forever. Happiness, finally. I could marry Sonic in this brand new world and tell him of the Source. It would be like opening the windows in the Springtime and letting the dusty stifled air out and the newborn sunshine stream in.
Casssar stepped over the threshold and beckoned Sally across. But as the squirrel obliged, the ermine's body moved fluidly, bringing them nearly face to face, with Casssar bending one knee to bring her eye level with the Princess. Green and blue orbs locked for a long moment.
"Be careful with him," said Casssar. "He is more sensitive then he seems."
Sally nodded, though she could care less about his feelings.
"Then enter..." The ermine stood aside, falling into step behind Sally as she took a breath and plunged into the heart of enemy territory.
Snively was sprawled out in the throne, clothed in gray pants and a black tanktop. His chin was on the armrest; he hadn't moved since waking up, it seemed, and those luminous eyes followed her movement.
He was perplexing tonight. He looked harmless, cute, innocent even, in that lazy position, and yet his complete nonchalance spoke of a man steeped in confidence. And yet, flickering in the depths of his eyes was anxiety, strangely paired with a pair of lips curved in amusement.
She halted in front of him, thoroughly confused by these mixed messages. Her mouth opened to speak, but no words came.
He lifted his head off the armrest, his long pale fingers flexing. Like a predator aware of a prey. She wondered what type of Mobian he would be. A fox perhaps. Lean and sleek with pearl-gray fur and a keen muzzle. Or a scuttling white cave spider, fangs leaden with the deadliest of venom.
His lips curled from smile to sneer. "Have you come to surrender?"
"You should know by now, that I would never surrender to you."
He let out an exaggerated sigh. "Very well then, what is it? Surely you haven't come knocking to ask me to surrender? Go ahead. I wouldn't mind a good laugh."
She could so easily kill him. Shatter his mocking smile. If Casssar wasn't in the room, Sally knew she could have Snively upon the floor, squealing for his life. All this pretentious smugness and lofty confidence would be spilled out along with his blood. Yeah, she could rip his life out of his chest before he could even let a scream.
"The thought never even entered my mind, Snively."
He leaned his elbow on one of the arm rests, legs still sprawled lazily. Muted light spilled upon his right side. She could see, snaking the pale flesh of his upper arm, an old scar. Faded enough to be merely a white ghost underneath the surface of skin. His eyes, though currently half-lidded in either nonchalance or tiredness, still caught her every scrutiny. He shifted his body onto the other armrest, where the darkness fell; the arm was lost in shadow.
He returned the acute observation, seeing things: the heaviness around her eyes, the way the black robe hugged her figure.
"You're looking rather thin. Haven't been eating lately?" He titled his head. "And just what has been keeping you up nights?" His eyes gleamed and he awaited her defiant anger. But there were no verbal lashes, no fire. She offered only a sullen glare.
"What's this, Sally?" He pouted in disappointment. One skinny hand reached up and scratched at his shoulder. "Don't tell me your previous defiance was just a front."
"No." Her voice was flat. "I'd kill myself before laying down to you."
Some kind of darkness passed over his features and he shifted in the throne. She blinked, and his sudden discomfort was gone. She might have imagined it, for the insufferable sneer was back on his face. "You're good at killing, Sally..."
She stiffened and his sneer deepened. "Oh Sally..." His voice was a rasping whisper, "...We made a lovely team, you and I..."
She stared back at him, feeling her hackles rise....his eyes were locked with hers, and he was leaning forward...
"We brought down Robotnik together..."
Her eyes flitted to Casssar. The ermine was nearly lost in the darkness of the vast room, leaning against the wall near the entrance. Only the flicker of a white-tipped ear gave away her location.
"We killed him together..." his voice was a hiss. His fingers curled on the arm of the throne and his claws, short and blunt as they were, still screeched upon the metal. She cringed. "We should be dear friends, dear dear Sally..."
Casssar's ear had stopped flicking and Sally knew she was watching intently. She felt her breath catch in her lungs. There was a predator in the human's eyes. His tongue brushed out, swiping those pouty lips, whether out of a twisted attraction for her...or merely a want to devour her soul...she couldn't tell. Both, probably.
He was leaning far forward now, looking cat-like, about to pounce and sweep her into his arms. His smile soured into a frown and he leaned back, his breath expelling in contempt. "And then you had to RUIN it."
Her hackles prickled further and one fist clenched. Something...tingled through her. She snorted. "Really. Me? I know why YOU did it."
"Of course you do."
"Why you went crazy, attacked us. I know WHY you did it."
"Crazy is a subjective term..." He shifted so his body was in the dark side of the chair again. "I did it because of you. What YOU did was insane. You deserved to be punished for it....Insane!"
His voice was acid, eating her insides, killing her. So accusing that she could hardly bear it...she wanted to scream to drown him out. She was innocent of these charges! Innocent of bringing Robotnik back...she would never. Never. She had killed him. A crime horrid, but at the same time, a blessing. To bring him back again? She would suffer a thousand deaths first.
She flew towards the throne, her voice rising to a shriek. Casssar took a step forward, light swirling around her fingertips. "You STUPID BASTARD! You're the same PARANOID STUPID LITTLE MAN YOU'VE ALWAYS BEEN!" What was that rising in her? Emotion?!
Emotion. She could...feel again. Feel alive again...
He sprang from the throne, coming to meet her, matching fury to fury. His hand assaulted her, grabbing beyond her hood, closing upon a handful of her auburn locks, twisting hard. Tears sprang to her eyes, but she made no sound. "Criticize me?! Even I would never sink as low as you did, Sally! You little bitch!"
She wrenched away from him, shoving him away. Casssar was still standing in the corner, fingers splayed and glowing, but she didn't interfere. She watched, her lip bit between her teeth. Like she knew a blow was coming...a painful blow...and she knew that blow had to be dealt. In order to set a broken bone straight; hurting to heal.
"HERE'S YOUR UNCLE, SNIVELY!!" Sally screamed and pulled forth the box, yanking the top open. The ash billowed out like smoke and Snively's mouth parted in disbelief. "He's DEAD! DEAD, DAMN YOU!" She thrust the box towards him, shoving it into his chest. "We burnt him five days after he died!"
Oh Mobius, yes, she was seething in emotion and the feeling was almost exhilarating. But so painful.
His eyes were wide, and his mouth; he was choking on the ash. His arms slapped furiously before his face. A shriek, halfway between horror and rage, came spitting out. He lashed out, striking the box from her hands, shrieking again as it hit the floor with a horrific clang, spilling its vile contents. "NO!" He lunged for her, locking his hands around her throat and squeezing hard enough to blacken her vision. "You lying filthy WHORE! GODDAMN YOU, NO! YOU FUCKING LYING CUNT!"
She tried to break his hands free; she couldn't. She raised a leg to knee him in the groin; Cu flared inside her, preparing to attack, but neither occurred. An unlikely savior came. Snively was pulled off her, spitting and screaming, struggling to escape the arms of Casssar. Her black hands were clasped around his midriff. His tanktop had ridden up, hanging askew on one shoulder, and his face was filled with the most horrible ire Sally had ever seen.
She felt sick, casting a glance back at the ash. He wasn't speaking now, just making incoherent sounds of bloodlust, still straining to get at her. She whirled back to face him, her own face twisting in anger. "It's TRUE!" She stooped, her hand swiping a handful of the ashen tyrant and throwing it into his face. "Smell it...You can smell his EVIL!" Tears reformed in her eyes...her throat closed and she barely managed the next words, tight and squeezed they were, drowned in anguish. "You KILLED them for nothing, Snively! For NOTHING!"
He stopped straining, panting in Casssar's arms, one hand latched like a claw onto his face, staring through his crooked fingers at the pile of ash. His small body began to tremble and his face drained of wrath and color. "No...you're lying..." He gave a weak struggle and Casssar, sensing his passion gone, released him. He staggered to the ash, sinking weakly before it, thrusting those long digits into it. "It can't be him..."
"Why would I bring him back?!" She cried out, her voice breaking. "Do you think me that cruel...that EVIL!? I would kill myself a million times...I would kill...I would... Why would you even think I would..." Her voice sputtered away and her body sagged.
"No..." he pushed himself around with one hand. The other was covered in the gray death and held shaking to his chest. "No...how dare you come in here and ask for forgiveness... I won't do it...I won't..." She was almost shocked to see his face shining with tears and his eyes reflecting her own pain.
Dear Journal...I can't be like him...he can't be like me. But we seemed so alike in that moment...
"I don't want your forgiveness...murderer!" She swiped at her eyes, trying to erase her torment. "How dare you ask for that...when you're unforgiven yourself...?"
He stood up, walking at her like a man drunk. But his eyes were clear burning blue flames. "I've seen my blood on these floors...a thousand times. And what about you?! How much have you bled for your cause? How dare YOU judge ME unworthy?" He was right before her now, staring straight into her soul. "And how dare you think...that...that...my pain means nothing..."
Yes, she'd thought that. Many times. But it wasn't right to feel sympathy for him. He deserved it all. For what he'd done. She knew that, and yet those eyes, that pale face etched with agony...it made her heart bleed. Dear holy Mobius, how HURT both of them were! But he still...
Deserved it...
Because he'd brought it on himself. Because he hadn't protested. Because he had laid down and given himself over. Because he hadn't died a thousand deaths to stop one atrocity. Because he...
"You didn't have to." Her hand closed about his wrist, but not for consolation. Her claws dug in, drawing blood. She wanted him to feel it. "You opened your veins all on your own."
He whimpered, a broken sound, his voice scarcely a whisper. "You don't know what he did to me...you don't fucking have a clue...don't you fucking judge me..."
"Robotnik hurt us all.' The tears were cooling on her cheeks and she felt a strange calm. Maybe it was the empty spot inside being filled. "None of us did what you did."
"It isn't nearly the same!" he wailed. "What he did to you pales in comparison to what he-"
"How dare you think that our pain means nothing." She quoted him quietly. My gods, but she was close to him now, so very near she could smell his breath (strangely, a scent of cloves) and he could smell hers – it ruffled the supple curving lashes around those shining depths of blue.
Casssar's face was grim. She stepped forward like a referee. But there was no fight to break up, only a pair of faces a lips-breadth away. Her black hand jutted between them and they both moved back, startled.
"Cu is with her," said Casssar, but somehow Sally doubted that was why Casssar interfered. Those eyes seemed to be positively glowing green.
"Oh really..." Snively stepped forward again, despite the hard frown on the ermine's face, thrusting his nose into hers. Sally made no effort to move away. "Trying to get close so It can try to 'fix' me again? Eh?"
"You know how I feel about that. You don't deserve it. You don't deserve anything."
He bit his lip pensively, eyes of blue blinking. The face of a hurt child. "Such harsh words from the esteemed princess." Papercut words, small, but stinging. "If only your friends knew what you're really like..."
"Cu knows," said Casssar, her expression sour as Snively's long-fingered hand brushed a lock of thick auburn hair from the Princess's brow. Still, the squirrel did not move, but her lip curled slightly, revealing a sliver of sharp tooth. One hand knotted into a fist.
"Cu knows, but it doesn't judge," the ermine continued, sarcasm coating her words. "It supposedly doesn't judge. It supposedly knows Good from Bad. If there is such a thing."
"I imagine it sees all the sick things inside of dear dear Sally..." Snively cooed softly. Her eyes now free of the falling locks, Snively could peer deep into them, seeking out all her dark thoughts and fleeting violent fantasies.
"Whatever wrong I've done..." her voice shook slightly. "You've done a thousand more and a thousand times over."
Dear Journal
Maybe I'm not a good person after all.
He turned away from her and approached the pile of ash. "There's a phrase. Once a criminal, always a criminal." His gaze flickered to her. "Once a thief, always a thief." He crouched down over the ash, his skinny legs folded and his arms resting on them. "Once a liar..." One finger was poked into the ash. He shivered. "How do I know you're not lying about –this-, Sally?"
"I told you, I would never bring him-"
"You could have gotten this from anywhere."
Her calm was starting to deteriorate. "Test it then, if you don't believe me!"
He grabbed up two handfuls and stood, letting them sift through his fingers as he pivoted to face her. The gray billowed up around his ankles. "Once a liar..." he said grimly. "First you tell me you're bringing him back and that I'm to die."
"I never said that-"
"And now you come to me and say that was a joke."
"What the hell are you-"
"You're not a very nice person, Sally, not at all...to play with my mind like that..."
"I never said I was bringing him back," she growled. "Your own sad delusional mind dredged that up."
He tilted his head, smiling madly. "Once a killer...always a killer. Don't be so quick to judge when you have blood on your hands too..."
Can evil be measured by intent or action? Well, I've done both now...I really am...evil.
She stepped away from him and his condemning eyes, those teeth gleaming. Her back hit something furred; Casssar. The ermine and her magic-bearing hands...
"No, I didn't want to do that!" She howled. "YOU FORCED ME TO! I AM NOT A MURDERER!"
I didn't intend to kill. The action was evil, the intent was not...evil can not be measured by mere action.
"That makes you even worse, Snively, EVEN WORSE! That was like...it was like..." She sputtered, clasping one hand to her throbbing temple. "It was like r...rape!"
He jolted back as if slapped. His face, already so white, went even paler. He looked like a corpse. A corpse on the verge of puking as well. His eyes were frantic, but he wasn't looking at her...he was looking at Casssar. The ermine was shaking her head slightly.
Sally glanced back and forth between them. Snively set his jaw, frowning hard, but the ghosts in his eyes betrayed him. She had shaken him up badly with that last comment...and she was...
Dismayed. Pleased. Pleased but dismayed. The ashes were scattered forlornly upon the floor, a peace-offering ruined.
"I think you should leave now," the human said, each word strained.
"I came here to make peace. But that's impossible, isn't it."
Snively met her eyes one last time before turning away. "Maybe..."
Maybe? That's cryptic...
Casssar's hand grabbed Sally by the wrist and led her away. Sally could scarcely breathe the entire journey to the outskirts of the city. Once there, on the threshold of the wasteland, with the Great Forest rustling in the distance, the ermine finally spoke. Sally braced herself for a fight.
Casssar was not interested in fighting. "I'm not sure what the outcome will be," she said quietly. "But I am glad he will know that his uncle is truly dead. It will help him in the end."
Sally was doubtful of that. "I didn't come to help him..."
"I know." The ermine tilted her head, a slight smile on her face. "But perhaps you did, unknowingly."
"...Perhaps..."
----
She returned to the village before sunrise. After returning Cu Chulainne to its cave, she retired to her hut with the morning sun on her face. She fell into a deep sleep at a time when others were waking from theirs.
This sleep, for reasons she could not fathom, seeing how she had failed her mission yet again, lacked the desperate need to escape reality. It was merely sleep for the sake of refreshment of body and mind, and when she awoke, many hours later...
She felt peaceful.
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From the mind of a Queen, Casssar.
"Are you going to test it?" I asked, though I didn't think it was necessary. I could feel, dipping a toe into the pile of ash, that it had come from a living thing. It had blackened bones and a blackened heart and a contempt for flesh...I could sense it.
"What, you believe her?" My Castdecass cried out. He was curled up in the throne.
"Yes."
"She's malicious," he hissed, sliding from the throne, pacing the ash in wide circles. "She always has been..."
"I would agree that she does not like you, Cast." He was circling closer, his eyes lighted on the ash. "But she wouldn't endanger her own people by bringing him back. He IS and WAS always dead. Just like I told you."
"Sounds like you're on her side. Did you have a little chitchat with her when you left? A little bonding perhaps?"
"Don't be foolish."
He slid onto his knees in front of the pile, taking up handfuls of it, staring down hard. He was trying to feel the essence of his uncle. "She could have gotten this from anywhere."
"Smell it."
He smelled it.
"It smells like death, Cast."
He dropped his hands, the ash rising like smoke to shroud his face. He stood abruptly, distancing himself from it, looking sick. "It does..." he croaked. "It really is him..."
I moved towards him, taking his dusty hands in mine. "He is gone forever, Black Flower. You are free of him."
"Is that our happy thought of the day?" He sneered, bitter.
"He is dead, what more do you want?" Sometimes his attitude grew so tiresome. I knew he had suffered and still did, but to forever indulge in the pain? It was maddening to a woman who had also been in the pits of hell and now wanted to enjoy her freedom....to be in the light. To share love.
He growled savagely, evading my eyes (but not my touch, which I was glad for). My reprimands peeved him often, because he knew I was right!
"I want..." He sighed and buried his face into my breast. One hand rubbed his upper arm, a finger traced an old wound. "The scars gone. Him out of my head...and dreams."
"You are still dreaming of him? I thought that stopped."
"They aren't constant anymore..." he mummered. "But they still happen."
"They will go away," I assured him. I thought it was better if I didn't tell him my dreams of my father, though not constant, had not gone away. Too deeply scarred into the soul, he was. There was no purging, no erasing...no forgetting.
He grunted. He didn't believe it. He could tell my comforts were untrue this time. "They'll go away," he mocked, pulling away from me. "Oh, I imagine they will...when I do."
Oh, my Cast! He said that with such despair, such bitter anger. I wanted to slap him. Then embrace him. He was stark-white, with ash smeared on his face, and his crown askew. A little ghost child. His eyes had lost their wild sheen and passion. They were flat. Corpse-eyes. They thrust me back in time...
"Mommy," I whispered.
Mommy was on the floor, curled like a baby. Her mouth was bleeding. An end table was turned over and was pinning her tail. But she didn't push it off. She didn't talk or move. She only laid there and breathed. In and out she breathed.
I was glad to see her breathing.
Daddy had left a while ago, bellowing that self-satisfied laugh. I don't think there is a sound I hate more.
Mommy would usually get up and tend to me or the house. Sometimes she would sleep. Back then, I thought it was bravery. Now I see it was a cycle of apathetic acceptance, a harem slave pretending this was all a lush exotic fairytale.
And bravery and stupidity often intermingle so closely as to be called the same thing. So bravery, acceptance, stupidity, weakness – they all kept my mother pinned to floor, chained to the house, stitched to the man. I thought about this much when I left. I wondered why she had never run away. When I remembered this day, with her curled on the floor, it was easy to see why she had never fought back. Her eyes said why.
"Mommy," I whispered, laying down beside her, mimicking her posture. "Mommy, can you get up? Are you alright?"
No response. None. So I tried selfishness. "Mommy, I'm hungry. Please get up!"
I moved closer to her, intently eyeing her face, touching her hand. That's when I saw her eyes. A shudder hit, hard enough to take breath away. They were blank, glazed – eyes of the dead when the body is empty of its vital contents – the soul, the mind, and the heart.
But she wasn't among the dead, she had only taken their eyes. I knew even at that young age that this was a terrible horrifying thing. The body was supposed to die and the soul live on. But with Mommy, the soul had died and the body lived. It was a reversal that was not supposed to occur.
It was too late for her. I vowed on that day that it would never be too late for me.
Snively's eyes were like hers, but it wasn't too late for him. He could be revived. I was not a weak child anymore. I could beat him back to life. I could take stars and rip the twinkle from them, and force the sparkle into his corpse-eyes.
"Snively," I said, abandoning monikers to catch his attention. He startled and looked at me. "Don't go down that hole. There isn't a bottom. There's nothing down there for you...it's a place that...living people aren't supposed to go..."
A smile spread across his face, no, it wiggled like a maggot. Crawling and sick. "But Cass...I'm not a living person." Again with the mocking. But I was not rebuked. Mocking was a form of attack or defense. It was a fight nonetheless, and dead souls like my mother had never even fought that much.
"Cast," I purred, "Haven't we learned by now that the dead can be brought back to life?"
He turned and regarded the ash for a long long time. Harshly, he brushed it off his hands and wiped his face free of it with his shirt. "You're right. He won't drag me down with him. Not when I've come this far along."
He faced me again. His hand closed on mine. The grip was warm and firm. His lips...as he rose on his toes to reach me...were giving and I took from them. Bliss.
His eyes were beautiful again. He whispered. "Not when I've gained this much..."