"strange how your dreams can play tricks on you
like they have been living your life
instead of you
because it is just so easy
to lose to them
as if, they never existed..... "
I realize now why the past few days meant nothing to me .But this boy?,i'm sure i know him now.Seven years back his father and i worked on a project together .I remember the secrecy, the politics and , most importantly, that heavy feeling in your chest when you know you are doing something wrong.I still cant bridge the gap of what happened in these seven years..but i remember his family, his story... and his death.
" why did you stop? the climb isn't that bad...."
This boy...he had those eyes i fear, the very same ones that strip you down to your most basic thoughts..a looking glass into your soul.I hate everything that threatens me, but his eyes feast on my fear.
"is that your house over the clearing", i said pointing towards a thatch hut with stone walls tucked away further ahead .
"yes, it isn't much but having a roof over your head makes you feel lucky in times like this"
"what do you mean? you live in a rich country in utter poverty!"
he shook his head, moving slowly up towards the hut.
"you seem to know nothing..I hope i'm not wrong"
" i doubt it. I dont know why i'm here"
" really...must you keep playing this pretend game ? "
He spat back all of a sudden, it took me by suprise..i havn't seen this kind of fire in his eyes..but it burned deep in his voice.Years of pent up anger and frustration wrapped and sealed carefully..a family heirloom he cant give up.
" i know that hes dead. but what i need to know is if you were the one that killed him"
" you are not taking me to your mother are you?'
" there are other important people who need to speak to you first"
" and i suppose you think i have no choice in the matter"
he laughed out loud
" have you seen yourself? you can barely stand up..i could kill you in seconds!"
it was my turn to laugh now
"then do it boy? what better time than here and now? "
he stared back with a peiercing gaze
"i cant.."the fire still burned in his eyes
" i have never killed before....i dont live or fight for blood. I made my choice a long time ago.A time when i could think and see straight no matter how little i knew .I value the choices i made as a child more than the ones i have as a man"
There was more to this boy than he shows..something special shines through...maybe its his passion.But his honesty scares me. The young are confusing..they think they have all the time in this world to change it but all they end up changing is themselves..recycling their minds over and over again until they are exhauted, wasting all this fire on dreams , dreams? like they know what they even mean....
I know i'm sour..and spiteful and i envy him.I'd kill to beleive in my dreams again.But i've seen otherwise now.
Leaving so much at the surface of your being you'd see more ,feel more, it gives you the strength to fight your battles without a shield.I have always kept my walls wrapped closely around me , sometimes so close that i can hardly see or breathe .Building a fortress around myself so that i may never have to see a bloodstain on my blade.But before long i realized that my sword was always hung tightly around my waist, if i may ever have to use it, i will.
I remember over thirty years ago , a boy not very much older than him.A boy with the very same brown eyes.I met his father for the first time in england , as a charming young man who had the world at his feet.I remember his mother too, only too well.She wasn't the kind of girl you wouldn't have noticed...and i noticed a little too much about her..the little golden curls in her hair ,blue eyes that teased you like a morning dance between light and water, the look of surprise very time she smiled, how she held on closely to his arm ,her head just reached a little above his shoulder and his fingers near her lips......i also noticed how her cheeks turned pink every time she smiled at me.sometimes i couldn't help wondering if it were otherwise...the rules we make up to protect ourselves sometimes imprison you and take you away from the people you love the most.The rules cant change the inevitable end, all they do is distance it...the rules may give you more time..but life catches up eventually.
I remember our names at place cards..Dylan, Dorothy and me, two young men and a lady.I knew my name didn't belong there.but i never fit in anywhere anyhow.And i had no shortage of women to feel lonely.
But Dorothy was different ...i loved her voice..it always seemed like she had so much to tell if only i could understand her...at dinner she'd play with her hair every time she was bored..and somehow these little things mattered to me.
Of course, she didn't know that she was the reason we were together, she didn't realize her part in what we were about to do, In two years all the thoughts that ran in our heads would change completely...we would grow decades older within minutes...but for those last few seconds at dinner we were three friends with a lot of secrets . One entwined within the other until you could untangle them no more.We were actors in our own play, pretending to fit in and hide with the rest of the world. Sometimes i try to confuse a memory into a figment of my imagination and close my eyes in the face of what i think might be true...sometimes to be happy we need to blur that sharp line between fiction and reality.
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