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Thursday, January 10, 2013

Crash and Burn

This is a post I'd put on an Otherkin board I was once a member of. I'd remembered the day very clearly - more clearly than usual. Of course these days I think there was more to the exercise than it seems and I might have found where it happened. But I'm not sure yet.

In the vision I'm not even a teenager yet - I'm at that age where you think you're 16 when you're probably under 12. Or maybe you're 12.

I'm not changing the original writing, but "Kray'ahagh" is actually "Craig" - it just seemed more alien to put it that way at the time... and at the time I was trying very hard to present my memories as something not human. Because I and the others I talked to had decided they weren't human memories. It had to make sense that way.

But his name is Craig, and Craig is someone that seems to have always done things with me. Just like there's a Paul in my subconscious. Craig and Paul.

Crash and Burn
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You had a smile that lit your sleepy face, cracked your cheeks with sunshine. A voice of pure silver, you sang with your tiny instrument (enhanced by tech, made musical sounds yet to be here), violet in your vest, a young bard fresh on your own, taught me to sing...

I wept for you on that bridge as your body sunk beneath the water, your sash floating up with the bubbles, and I wore pale blue that day, velvety threads, fur around my face, it was cold, rain... a circlet of silver on my brow, searing from the cold, the tears burning my cheeks, my lashes wet and sticking together. Blood on the bridge, icicling down, rain, a vain attempt to hide the evidence.

Terror. You were my first... My first, but surely not my last, and I wept. I wept. I was afraid and you were gone.

Where is your heart? I put your heart in a book and never realized what I had done.

Again, I stand on the bridge although I remind myself I am in America, year of the millennium, and that was long ago and far away... but the memory is new, and surely I have not thought of it my entire time on this planet. And so I stand on the bridge trying to remember how it happened. Kray'ahagh helped me hide you, throw you over the rail. The child was silent and pale, my velvet was wet, I was cold, I was shivering and exhausted. I was never very good with weather magic. And you have sunk below the murky depths, the river flows serenely onward, I watch your sash flow out of sight. Kraig turns and stomps stomps away, his boots squelch in the mud. I am left alone to keep the tale. Shhh, child, its a secret...

Bangs dripping between my eyes. Cold.