home

search

Destruction-Part 1

  They were both still out on the field, where Athena left them, where the lights in the skies were still visible. The creature was wondering, what destruction did the wanderer mean exactly?

  'I need you to do something for me,' said the man to the Hollow.

  'In the forest, you pulled out a memory of myself as a kid. I need you to do that again, but this time, with the memory of two other people. Can you do that?'

  The shadow-made creature nodded. Still it wondered, why would he want to do that? And who exactly...? It made a surprised expression, as it felt the memory of its prey.

  'Yes, them,' said the ranger with a soured voice. 'In order to break down the house, I have to start at its foundations. And they are that. I have a lot to say. Things I never told them, things I never could tell them, and I can't do it anymore, because... because they are gone.'

  The man looked to the ground with sorrow, regret, and sadness. The Hollow felt all these from him, yet something was wrong. These emotions were supposed to fill it; they were the fuel that let its fire burn. And yet, while its power grew with them, inside, it did not feel any refreshment at all. It was like air had blown through an empty room.

  Finally, the ranger clenched his fist and continued.

  'I know why you did what you did in the forest. You wanted to feed upon the emotions that that conversation set free. So, here's the deal: do this for me, and I promise there will be enough of those to fill you for a month! Do you agree?'

  The monster looked at the man. It had doubts about if this would help it, but still it nodded. It had a theory to test.

  'Good. Then let's get started.'

  The Hollow stretched out its arm. Reaching deep within the traveler's mind, going through his memories. When it had seen enough, it pulled them out.

  A black smoke appeared, swirling between them. With a gesture of the creature, slowly, it took shape.

  The man looked, as it took on an all-too-familiar form. A form of a woman.

  'Hello, mother. It's been a while,' the man stared at the memory before him. Even though he knew it was not real, he could not help but feel a little fear. Should he really say everything to her? He tried to avoid it all his life, and now he should just hurt her this way? He quickly brushed off these thoughts. This was not his mother. And even if it was, he already delayed this conversation too long.

  'I can only imagine what you would do if it were really you,' he said after a short silence. 'You would not understand why I am here with two strangers and a monster, traveling the world. Then I would explain why. And you would call it stupid. That's how it always went, isn't it? I would take an interest in something, make a decision, buy something, and the moment I tell you or you find out, you would berate it. Berate me. Never once had you even tried to comprehend or accept what I am, even though you claimed that you care about me. You never wanted to see the real me. Of course you made an effort to change me. Not just the berating but the emotional blackmail.' Memories flooded his mind. Arguments, fights when he was little. It was too overwhelming. He exhaled, trying to calm his nerves. And then continued.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  'Everything. Every gift, every toy, every piece of clothing, and every book, even the ones that I worked for and bought with my own money, were subject to being used in your games. Every time you felt like you needed to punish me, or you just wanted to show off "who rules," you reminded me of the fact that I am in your house! Every time I got a gift or you helped me with something, I felt like it was just another string, which made me more vulnerable towards you! Something to be used later as a blackmailing tool! Like I was not a member of the family living there but a subject in your kingdom! Not your son, just a beggar who you took in for the night. That I should just shut up and be happy, that you let me live there. Eventually, of course, this made me cautious, downright fearful of accepting any kind of help! Do you want to know what it felt like living in that house with you?! ' The man clenched his fist and raised his voice in rage.

  'I HAD NO HOME! Not in the sense that most people use the word! I never felt safe in my own family home; I felt like I did not belong there! Like all this that I called "mine" or was called "my space" could be taken away any moment by you just because we disagree! You would have never done it, but how should a mere child be sure about that? You run my trust so thin that I'm not fully sure of it even now! Probably would have made it into some dumb "lesson."'

  The memory had its armed cross. Several times it tried to speak, to interrupt the traveler in his monologue. But he recognized this so painfully well.

  'Oh, right. Here it would come the part where you would start to say things like "I am the shittiest mother in the world," "Then just leave me here if I'm so bad," or maybe "Then I just kill myself!". Why wouldn't you say those things? Worked every time when I wanted to talk about how I feel. It did not matter if I said it out of a tantrum or later when I tried to talk these things over with you like an adult, desperately trying to make our relationship better. Not like you ever saw me as an adult. You always saw a child in me no matter how I behaved or how old I was. My opinion on things never mattered because I was only a "child" who could not know what he spoke about; therefore, he was wrong by default. But returning to the self-blame: why would you think that it was a good idea to threaten a child with your suicide, giving him the idea that he was the cause? Even if you felt bad, if these were real thoughts, it was cruel for you to put that burden on me! And you never tried talking about it with me once I got older. Maybe I could have helped!' He completely lost himself in the memories, the rage. How could she have done this to him? His own mother putting such burdens on a little child?

  'Oh, but this was not enough, was it?' asked the wanderer. 'I was, what? Twelve years old when you first dumped all the problems of your marriage on me. The marriage, which should never have been. And one with such a burden, which no one should have endured. Perfect for a kid, right? Even though I listened. I listened because those were the only times I felt needed. I wanted to help you and dad, figure out how to keep the two of you together. To be happy! Not like I knew anything about that kind of stuff. By God, I do not know anything about it now! But I wanted to try, wanted to believe that I could save the two of you! Only to realize that there is nothing left to save. That it would have been better if you two had gone your separate ways. And one more instance, when I felt that I was not good enough to solve this problem,' he took a deep breath. Fearing what is to come. It was time to bring in the legacy he feared the most.

  'But that one was not just your fault.' He nodded to the Hollow. 'I'm ready.'

Recommended Popular Novels