the storm suspended itself above our field of wheat, it stared and waited, until finally it began to chew on us. the rain was a shower of warning, a warning reminding us what was said. we had heard of all the other kids going outside during the storm, outside into the cold only to never feel the warmth of inside again. you wanted to go outside and play in the rain anyway.
i wanted to tell you no… i did tell you no… but you told me we would be okay outside briefly. it was against the rules, and we knew it—and yet, we went outside anyway.
needles of water landed on our flesh as we trekked into the mud, not a care in the world from you. the wind howled and blew mist into our faces, like a bedsheet being thrown onto us. and that's when it happened: bang! the thunder said. light consumed the both of us and we were gone; gone to a place where a second chance awaited us.
the house we awoke in echoed with the songs of our forsaken mother, her voice the same measure as that of a lyrebird. the house glowed with a warmth of affection, an affection that only came after forgiveness. i liked that place, i wanted to stay forever, but you did not. no matter how many times you were warned—no matter how many times i was warned; you would always go outside, and i would always follow.
outside was a wall of wind, thick with dust and splintered branches. the current wailed around the house, THE EYE OF A GREAT STORM. the storm had given us a chance of reconciliation, we would surely not waste it, scrunch it up, tear it to pieces and throw it away, i thought.
brother, let's play in the kitchen. we do not need to play in the rain again, i said. you told me i was a fool, you hated the house and you wanted me to hate it too. you wanted to take me outside again, where it was wet, and cold, and lonely. it is not lonely if we have each other. this is how it always was and always will be. you want to go outside, you want to break the rules, be discovered wet with guilt and i would always be there with you, because i could not bear to be alone.
perhaps this could be the day i leave you be, not let you drag me out into the storm again. but once i saw you approaching the door of the outside world—the outside rage, i could not let you leave. let me go you said, but i could not. i knew i could not hold you a hostage, i could not prevent you from doing what you wished. but if you were to leave me then i would have no one, maybe if i went with you, i would still have someone.
O BROTHER, LONG SOUGHT THE THRILL OF DANGER NOW STREWN APART FROM YOUR VERY BONES; PULLED BY THE WEIGHT OF THE WORLD. A TRESHOLD ONCE CROSSED, WE WERE RIPPED FROM THE GROUND, A MOUNTAIN CLIMBED THAT COULD NOT BE DESCENDED. WE REGRET BREAKING THE RULES MOTHER, PLEASE, LET US COME HOME.
WE LEFT WITH ONE ANOTHER, AND YET, WE WERE RIPPED FROM EACHOTHERS ARMS THE MOMENT WE STEPPED OUT THE DOOR. AN ACT WE COMMITTED TOGETHER AND CONSEQUENCES WE MUST FACE APART. EVEN THOUGH I CANNOT SEE YOU IN SAID PRISON, I SEE YOU. REGRET, RAGE, AND REMORSE. FEELINGS WHICH TAKE PLACE AFTER OUR DEED IS DONE, A DEED WHICH WE CANNOT RECTIFY.
THE STORM RIPS MY FLESH FROM MY BONES, TEAR ME TO PIECES FOR WHAT I'VE DONE. ALL I WANTED WAS A PARTNER AND YET I AM RIPPED THROUGH YOUR CURRENTS ALONE. MY BONES BREAK, SHATTER, AND CRACK BACK INTO PLACE, A PUNISHMENT. O BROTHER DO YOU REGRET WHAT YOU HAVE MADE ME DO?
and right at the end of all the brutality, there is a sullen peace before i close my eyes.
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