Sometimes all it takes is a kind word and an understanding heart to help someone who doesn't know how to help themselves.
Bruno had changed. He knew he had changed. He wasn't that much of an idiot. He could see it day by day. He could feel it in every breath. He was a different man, but what kind of man was he now? He knew he was still a coward but what else? He'd never been more than a prophet, a curse, a man who made bad things happen and tied innocent people to a horrid fate. That's all he'd ever been. Was he a good man? He tried to be a good man. He didn't feel like a good man though. He was still making bad things happen, seeing bad things in the sands, and not stopping what he had done. Although, something in the back of his head screamed that it wasn't his fault. He didn't believe it.
No, that was wrong. There was a part of him that did know it wasn't his fault. A part of him that knew there isn't anything he can do because that's not in his power. Once the prophecy is given it's out of his hands. It's up to them whether or not they're going to change it. It's up to them whether or not they will take responsibility for their own futures and the choices that led them there. No one likes to take responsibility for a downturn in their lives but that's the only way to move forward and change your future. You have to want it. You have to work for it. It's not his fault if no one wants to work for it. That angry little part of his brain would snarl at him when his thoughts grew quiet and that, that was not the kind of man he wanted to be.
That anger kept creeping forward and seeping out without his permission. That wasn't the kind of man he wanted to be. The frustration became anger and that anger could quickly boil over into rage. It was a consuming rage, one that devoured and destroyed until there was nothing else left behind. That was not the kind of man he wanted to be. He didn't have the right to be angry about this. They didn't know. They didn't understand.
But they could have. If they had only asked. They birthed their own doom.
He shook his head.
They deserved it for their evils. Penance through fire.
He growled and grit his teeth against it. That was not the kind of man he wanted to be.
Are you sure?
Yes!
I don't believe you. You don't believe you.
That wasn't the kind of man he wanted to be! It wasn't! He took a breath and let it out. He took a breath and let it out. He took a breath. He let it out. He closed his eyes. There was nothing else. Nothing but his breaths. He rubbed his arms and curled in on himself. He kept breathing. That was all he needed to do. Keep breathing. In. Out. In. Out.
He was what he made himself to be. What he did was on him and no one else.
No. They made you.
"Stop it!" He howled and cracked his fist against the side of his head near his temple and the thoughts cleared. "It's not….That's not what I want. That's not me." He told himself. "It's not me. I'm-I'm just mad. Anger makes you think stupid things. That's all. Calm down."
He coached himself back to long steady breaths and the tension eased from his shoulders. He was okay. He could come back from this.
"I can do this." He whispered as he glanced at the tunnel that led to his door.
"I can do this." He was hungry.
"I can do this." The table was going to be full and noisy.
"I can't do this." He slumped against the wall.
He wasn't used to so many people. He wasn't used to it being so bright all the time. He wasn't used to it being so busy. He'd spent years wanting and wishing and now that it was here he was scared. Always so scared. He forgot what it was like to not be. Ten years hiding hadn't really been a reprieve. He'd spent that time living in fear too. Fear of being found. Fear of that prophecy being found. Fear that the cracks would grow bigger and wider before he could repair them. Before Hernando could fix them. Hernando was good at fixing things. The one thing that Hernando couldn't seem to fix was Bruno. Did he need to be fixed? Was it even possible to fix him? Bruno didn't know anymore.
It was so easy to get used to the bad. Bad wasn't something that was scarce in the world but good? Good wasn't a part of human nature. Human nature was selfishness, self preservation, and always, always envious of something. Charity went against selfishness, empathy went against self preservation, and kindness went against envy. Goodness required work, hard work. It was never easy, near impossible, to really find a good person because deceit ran deep in the human soul. Bruno knew these things. Other people didn't. They didn't know. They just didn't know. Anyone at all had the potential to be….he didn't want to say evil so he decided on simply not good. He often wondered what he could do with all of that. He wondered that if he pushed the right buttons he could expose that nature in anyone, whoever he wanted. Selfishness would be the easiest to work with. Everyone has their price.
He didn't want to be that kind of man.
Love was also a part of human nature he told himself. Love came hand in hand with selfishness and envy and self preservation. Love brought with it happiness and people craved that. Wanted to catch it, capture it, and keep it for themselves. Seeing a deep love that was not yours brought jealousy to the surface and love keeps you breathing. That wasn't so bad. Kindness was, perhaps, not there to start but love would always be there. All it mattered was what the person chose to do with that love.
Bruno loved his family.
That was the kind of man he was. It didn't matter if they loved him back or not. He would do anything for his family. He would fight, he would hurt, and he would die for them.
He would kill for them.
He rubbed his hands down his face and groaned. He was overthinking all of this. His head was just too full up with thoughts. It shouldn't be this hard to just go down, sit at the table, and eat breakfast with his family like he had craved for ten years. He'd been doing so good. So, so good with all of this and now he wasn't. He wasn't quite sure exactly when that flip came about. It had just….happened. Sometimes there wasn't really a reason and he knew that, but it didn't apply to him. He was different. Everyone had made sure that he knew that from the moment he got his gift. There was always a rhyme or reason for him to behave the way he did. If he could just find that reason then he could fix this. Fix himself and be the person his family wanted him to be.
You can be the person you want to be.
Did he deserve that? It was all too much. His thoughts wouldn't slow, wouldn't stop. He couldn't keep control of it and it kept flipping by like the pages of a book whose reader had grown impatient. Each page like a flash of lightning that was equally as bright and loud filled up with words that he couldn't quite read before they left. It was too fast.
"I can do this. I can do this." He whispered to himself as he nodded.
He had to try. He had to keep trying. That was all he needed to do. Try. It was okay for him to fail, to mess up. He was just a man, a human with faults and imperfections. He tried to remember what his family had told him. He tried to focus on that and push away those bright and loud thoughts that infected his mind.
"You have a right to be angry. We've all been waiting for you to just be angry about it. You've been angry about it for a long time haven't you?" Pepa had said.
He was just a man and it was okay to be angry.
"Just because you can do something with your gift doesn't necessarily mean you should. Or at least not all the time, or by yourself. I-I didn't know I was doing that until she pointed it out. I just got used to everyone expecting everything out of me that I started doing that too." Luisa had told him.
He was just a man and it was okay to not know what he was doing. It was okay to get a little lost.
"Tío Bruno, if you're really going to learn anything you have to give up a bit of control to step out of that box that we all got stuck in. I know that's what you want. Control. Believe me, it's not all it's cracked up to be. Your gift doesn't really seem like one that's about control or even can be. You keep talking about time like it's alive in a way. You say it has rules or knows how to fix itself and if it can do that do you really think you can control it?" Isabela had all but screamed at him.
He was just a man and it was okay to not have control.
"W-what are you doing?"
"I'm helping you look for it."
"You, uh, y-you don't have to."
"I know." Camilo had been so understanding.
He was just a man and it was okay to be afraid.
"You're okay now. Look at me Bruno. You're okay now." Agustín had always been so kind and gentle.
He was just a man and it was okay to need help.
He was just a man and, just like any other man, he had a choice to make. He and he alone defined himself but, when he looked in the mirror he couldn't define the person he saw. He was pale, thin, and sickly looking. His hair was a bit of a mess. It had always been a bit of a challenge to reign in those curls but it'd gotten worse over the years and he'd never noticed. There were deep bags that hung beneath his eyes from the sleep he refused to have. His hands were shaky from hunger and anxiety. He had callouses that weren't there before he'd begun climbing through the walls and healing from the splinters that came with it. He was still thin but there was a denseness to his muscles now that betrayed his true strength.
Was the man in the mirror really him? He looked like a stranger even to himself. He felt like a stranger. There was something new, something different and growing behind the eyes of the man in the mirror. A harshness lay there where it had never been before. Anger flickered faintly deep, deep down but just enough to see it if you were looking. The eyes were soft still, soft and vulnerable and impossible to hide. There was sadness and fear but he could also see something else creeping in. A kind of light he didn't recognize in his own eyes but the man in the mirror had it. He turned his head this way and that like he was expecting the stranger behind the glass to do something different.
Because that's what he was looking at. A stranger. He didn't recognize himself. He didn't know himself anymore. Where did he fit in now? He had everything he'd been wishing for these past ten years and he didn't know what to do with it all. Who was this person looking back at him? What did he want to be? What kind of life did he want? What kind of life could he have? Bruno stared at the glass and the man stared back at him.
"What do you want?"
The stranger didn't answer.
"Who are you?"
He reached out and the stranger reached back. He laid a hand on the glass and stared at the space where their fingers almost touched.
He was hungry.
It was going to be bright.
He was hungry.
It was going to be loud.
He was hungry.
There was going to be a lot of people.
He was so hungry.
"I can't do this." He hung his head and his hand drifted back down to his side.
He looked back and the stranger squared his shoulders and lifted his chin as if to say yes you can. The stranger was trying to be brave, wanted him to be brave but Bruno wasn't brave. Bruno was a coward. He shook his head and sniffed as his eyes began to burn.
"I-I can't I-I'm scared."
"And?"
"I...why can't I be you?" He reached his hand out again longing to slip through the glass and be this person he saw blazing in the stranger's eyes.
"You already are."
"Why can't I just be brave? Why-"
"You already are." He swore he could see a hint of orange in the stranger's eyes. He swore he could feel the rain and hear his own screams.
"That was different."
"How? How was that not brave. You knew and yet you ran to it anyway."
"That was different." He shook his head.
"How?"
"Th-that was different!"
"How Bruno?! Tell me how!"
"I-"
"How?"
"I-I." Bruno choked on his own breath.
"How?!"
"I don't know!" He sobbed. "I don't know."
"Because it's not different and you know that. That's always the excuse you make. It's a lie every time."
Bruno nodded. This person, this stranger staring back at him couldn't possibly be him. Not with that kind of fire in his eyes. So small, so sickly and weak but that fire betrayed his frailty. There was still fear and so much of it but there was more and it was so hard to believe that this person, this apparition that stood just the other side of the glass before him, could possibly, actually, really be him.
"I don't know why I did that."
"You did it for love."
"Always for love but, look where that's gotten me."
"And where has it gotten you?"
Bruno stared at the glass and watched the stranger's face harden.
"Where I wanted to be all along."
"That's right. All that's left to do is reach back and take it."
"I can do that. I could do that…..No...no I can't. I'm too scared."
"You're-"
"Just a man." He breathed. "Just a man." He nodded in tune with this stranger he saw before him and, as they moved together, he seemed less of a stranger and more a phantom, a shape, an outline he'd only ever seen in his daydreams.
The stranger in the glass wasn't really a stranger at all and they nodded. Bruno nodded and the glass reflected. That's all it did. Reflect what was already there and suddenly Bruno wasn't so afraid anymore. He still thought himself a coward but he wasn't really now was he? Because he would do anything for his family and cowards are not so selfless as that. It was slow, this new change in him and he hadn't even noticed until it had become so great that he wondered how he could have missed it. He licked his lips and laid a hand on the glass again, his reflection moving in sync because that's all it was. A reflection and its' thoughts were his own if a little hard to realize.
You see, the thought that he could be brave was so foreign to him that his body, his mind, rejected it as if it were poison and really who could blame him for such a thing? That was the thought that stacked itself upon everything else and one that he did not want to face. The idea that he could be brave. The fact that he already had been brave and it had been so effortless. He hadn't thought twice on it and he hadn't been afraid. Not until the beast was upon him. Now though, it was a different kind of beast that he fought. One of his own making that lurked, circled, and stalked his every waking moment and stole its' way into his dreams at night. Whispering to him in the dark when there was nothing but himself. The beast was a great black thing, a curse that hung over his head and pressed him down, down into the dirt and mud just as the cat had. Unlike the cat it did not seek food or survival. It only sought him and sought to claim his soul and whether or not it opened the door to heaven or the door to hell Bruno didn't know. It wanted him all the same and his skin itched with it. Made him want to claw and tear at his flesh until it was gone but it would never be gone. Not while he was alive. He knew that.
It would never go away. He would always have to run from it or maybe he didn't have to. If he could be brave enough to run toward what, almost certainly, was his doom then he could be brave enough to fight off the black beast. He'd never tried that. Never tried to face it. To turn around and yell and scream until it was the thing that cowered and not him. He'd spent his life running and it only grew stronger with every step he took away from it.
He was just a man and it was okay to be angry.
He was just a man and it was okay to not know what he was doing. It was okay to get a little lost.
He was just a man and it was okay to not have control.
He was just a man and it was okay to be afraid.
He was just a man and it was okay to need help.
But what kind of man did he want to be? Not have to be. He didn't have to be anything he didn't want to be. So, what, who, did he want to be?
He was hungry.
It would be so loud, and bright, and filled up with people and Bruno was afraid.
But Bruno was also brave and he could see it in his reflection now. Not a stranger anymore but him.
"Who am I now?" He whispered.
His lips were dry and stuck to each other when he spoke.
"What am I now?"
He turned to the sound of a noise bouncing along the walls of that wind worn tunnel that led to where he was standing now. He couldn't help the question that rose from his throat and drifted through the air as soft as a butterfly's wingbeat.
"Who am I?"
"You're my son." She said strong and certain of what she was saying as she walked over and laid a hand on his shoulder. "And I love you."
"Yes." He saw the words flicker through his eyes only ever visible in the man in the mirror. "One day at a time. One moment. One thought."
Yes, he could do it. He could walk out of this room and into the bright, and the noise, and the crowd.
"You're my son."
Yes, he could be that.
Ever look in the mirror and have a tiny conversation with yourself? Yeah, that's what happened here. Depression isn't what you see in the movies or read in books. It's not always this big thing that keeps you from doing things and continuing to live your life. It affects how you live your life and that's not always obvious. Especially if it's a life long struggle because you're just so convinced that it's normal but it isn't and when you finally realize that it leads to thoughts like this. When you realize that you can be so much more than you've been telling yourself your whole life. I've struggled with depression my whole life and it certainly doesn't feel the same way to everyone but this is how it feels with me. I'm just applying it to a situation that isn't mine. To anyone out there who struggles with depression I want this fic to let you know and keep reminding you that you're not alone in this, you're worth more than you think, your own thoughts will lie to you, and you're stronger and braver than you think. The fight won't end but it can get easier especially if you have others there to help but you need to reach back. Take it one moment at a time.
