The shadow had been looming over our heads for so long. It seemed that all had been lost in some way, and if it hadn't already been taken, it was in danger of it.
Everything seemed hopeless. Everything…
DRIP
Something inside me was pained, looking around the room of students.
Every one of them had a weary expression, and those who didn't had faces streaked with tears.
DROP
Something seemed wrong. Something always seemed wrong.
DRIP
The boy on whose shoulders rested the lives of all of the humankind was standing with a blank expression in the corner. He had grown up so much in such a little amount of time. It seemed only yesterday to me that I had seen him for the first time, small and scraggly. But now in his place stood a man. A man who hadn't rested for years; one who's sanity lingered on the brink. He was strong and tall, his face already creased with lines and his raven black hair was streaked with silver long before it should have been. His emerald eyes were misted over, lost somewhere between thought and exhaustion. It was amazing how he had been forced to grow up.
How all of us were forced to grow up.
DROP
It didn't seem fair, I thought, that so many people can live carelessly without a second thought while we - this group - sat in the small living room, all of us already bearing some sign of the age that we were far from reaching - one that made us all look old and weary. Made us look hopeless. I reached my hand up to my own red locks, tracing the silver streak unconsciously with my fingers.
DRIP
So many things that happened could have been prevented. Too many mistakes on our side gave the other side the unfair advantage.
But who ever said that life was fair.
No one had.
DROP
Our only hope now was the boy - no, man - in the corner, gazing into the fire's alchemic depths, as if the solution would be written there, plain as daylight.
The group became silent. Nothing stirred in the room, save the carefree fire that crackled softly, happily unaware of what was about to happen.
DRIP
I looked down to my hands. The blood had begun to flow again from the wounds. They just refused to heal.
The man stirred in the corner, and with a final glance to us - his comrades - walked out of the thick oak doors and into the moonlight. Everyone capable followed suit.
DROP
The lush green grass of springtime was mockingly soft under our feet as the troop soundlessly walked across the field. We new exactly what we were up against, and we knew that our time was limited. I walked silently among them, ignoring the constant drip of crimson from my flesh.
DRIP
Our group formed a line and positioned ourselves on the hill, knowing exactly what was on the other side, trying to prepare ourselves for whatever might become of us and our friends.
DROP
Everything after that seemed a blur to me. There was shouting. And screaming. And pain. Lots of pain. Too much.
DRIP
A rainbow of lights were streaking the sky. Some had fallen on the other side, but none had on ours. We were winning. Actually winning.
DROP
To my right, I could see the man and his enemy. The one that had tried to kill him countless times before. They were locked in an epic battle, blocking every attack sent their way. They were like a blur, light flashing in the air between them, making it impossible to discern whether either of them had been hit.
DRIP
They had stopped. He had somehow broken through his enemy's defense. His enemy fell to the ground, a puddle of black liquid surrounding it within mere moments.
DROP
All of the enemies were suddenly dead. As if they had been bound to the earth by the life of their master. It was amazing.
None of us had thought that we had stood a chance. And yet, we were still alive. All of us.
DRIP
I looked to my friends. All were so happy now that the evil was gone - jumping around and celebrating the long awaited victory.
Too bad I never made it out to congratulate them…
"When your time is up, your time is up. And you just pray to God that you have done something worthwhile with your life. I prayed. I prayed that the guys would never forget this night and what we had. This was our championship, and this was their gift to me.
"They chose me a spot on the hill so I could guard the field as seasons passed time and time again. To bring a team of men together like that is something short of magic. I hope I'll be missed and I want people to cry at my funeral. But the one thing that I don't want to be is I don't want to be forgotten. And I think I've done a pretty good job of that."
This story was inspired by Cameron Duncan, and the quote is from his short film, Strike Zone. May he and his stories always be remembered and may he forever rest in peace.