Musings

18 - Three Words

(A/N: This chapter isn't a poem, it's what I like to call a sketch story. It's something like a short story, but even shorter, more like an excerpt from a longer story. Apologies in advance for the poor writing, I'm not very good at writing interactions, but I hope to improve someday. Criticisms are very much welcome. Anyway, I hope you'll still enjoy the piece.)

There you are again, bathing in soft pinks and blues of the morning rays and back towards me, afraid to look me in the eye. Why do you always do this?

     "Good morning. How're your injuries?," you say, turning your body to greet me with your ever-present smile that never fails to outshine the sun.

It makes me sick. How you like to act like nothing happened, how you pretend like everything's still under control, how you always take the role of a leader. I look at the sun rising behind you, unwilling to be scorched by your smile.

     "I can still fight."

I let my gaze examine you. One arm wrapped in an old rag acting as a makeshift sling, a leg covered in dirty bandages, scratches here and there peeking out of the band aids, your body peppered with blues and greens and purples. You look like you could barely sit straight. But somehow, you keep at it and maintain that smile.

I finally land my eyes against yours. "And at least I don't look like a walking corpse."

You break the contact then. Like you always do. Looking into the ground with those doleful eyes, but still having that smile attached to your face as if you can't live without it. Like you can't live outside your fantasy.

     "Do you think you can forgive me? This time I promise not to fail you again, so if you could please put your trust in me once more," you say, eyes still glued to the dirt.

It's always like this. We plan, we try, we fail, but only you take the sole responsibility, and I just follow you around as usual. Everyday I see you gradually exhaust and wear yourself down, and despite being your best friend, all I've ever done was trail behind you watching pieces of you fall off one by one. It's like a never ending pattern. A downward spiral that goes on and on forever, deeper and deeper into the darkness.

I march towards you, hands clenched, footsteps heavy with emotion.

     "Why do you always do this? Do you need me to hate you in order to live?"

You finally look up, eyes wide, unbelieving.

     "Huh?"
     "Yes, you left them to die, but you also saved me. What do you want me to say? Thank you for valuing my individual life more than theirs?"
     "What? No, I—"
     "You're always like this. Acting like everything's somehow your fault. Aren't I part of the team too?"

I step back and close my eyes. Breathing in the crisp morning air, exhaling heavy sighs. My eyes open up to your face frozen in shock, your smile not so ever-present anymore. Good. This is a good opportunity for you to finally listen to words you need to hear.

     "I hate you. I really do. I hate how you always act like the leader, making these plans and decisions for us."
     "I.. I always asked for your opinions. I thought.."
     "That we all agreed? Did you know most of us actually just wanted to go home? But you kept spouting nonsense about honour and duty. Who wants to admit that they're a coward?"

You tear your eyes away from me, and you turn to face the sun once again. I won't let you escape though, not this time. So I continue my relentless attacks.

     "I hate how you keep pushing us forward despite our losses."
     "I hate how you always put up that stupid smile and act like everything's fine when it clearly isn't."
     "I hate how you sacrificed the others for me."
     "I always have hated you. I can't ever forgive you."

Once again, you bask under the sun's light, but even its soft rays of pink and blue could not protect you from my words. The morning's refreshing breeze does not ease your trembling figure. The early birds' morning songs cannot stop your quiet sobs. And my usual warm embrace are not there to dry your tears.

I turn my back against you as well. "I'll be leading them tomorrow instead. Rest up," I say one last time before I head back to my tent.

I want to trust your judgment, but I also don't want to follow a corpse.
I hope what I said was enough for you to never miss me.
So for now, I'll say I hate you.