Story Book
Tale
Out of all the stories my mother had spoken to me as I wove pictures of each scene in my mind. The story of the war lord and the peaceful princess stuck with me.
The war lord and the princess came from two different worlds that were one of the same. He lived in a world full of blood, hatred and power. His life was wound to the tip of his sword. He fought for no one but himself; he believed in no god.
She was the opposite, the gods where the center of her life. She flinched at the sight of blood, criticized her brothers for carrying a sword. And begged her father often not to send their country off to war. She wanted peace.
Both were so far apart on the grid of morals. Yet on the grid of emotions he never thought he had and those she never thought would surface, they were both parallel. She balanced out his hate and he helped her survive the wars of the world.
My mother would always end with this, two worlds collided and in their unison is how the body was finally able to hold both hate and love.
Sour on the tongue and a sweet taste.
I smiled loosely, as I imagined the story over and over in my mind. I didn't pay attention to the wetness trailing down my face, I most be out in the rain. I started to go over the story again when I realized how impossible that was.
Out in the rain? Had I not just been driving...
A sharp pain slithered into my skull, I moaned trying to open my eyes. The steering wheel was blurry my head was laid flat against it. I turned my head to look out my window, there was no window. I could see the bark of the tree that was pressed against the car. Little pieces of glass decorated the car door like tinsel.
I moved my head to look in the other direction and then hissed as my head rubbed up against the steering wheel. I lifted myself off the steering wheel leaning back in my seat I lifted my shaking hand up to my forehead.
Bring my hand down I saw my finger tips where covered in blood. I gagged, soon my breathing was coming in ragged triggering a snagging feeling in my chest.
“Help!” My voice held no power I was shaking to much for my voice to come out with power.
I looked out the cracked windshield it was starting to get dark out. I tried to unbuckle my seat belt but I found that my door had ever so nicely bent itself over the buckle making it impossible for release. I glanced down at the steering wheel, I blinked and then laughed a cold bitter filled laugh.
My father had taken out the air bags, to prevent suffocation. My mother had hit her head off her door and was knocked out, when the air bag opened she landed face first into it. And she didn't move until the fire fighters teared the eighteen wheeler's bed off her car and then carried her lifeless body out.
The sudden opening of a door made me flash out of my thoughts I looked over at the passenger door.
“Ian.” The name slipped through my lips like a liquid that was both sour and sweet.
He looked up startled his blue eyes held worry as he climbed into the car. Ian moved quickly with a quick shove of his hand the bent metal preventing the removal of my seat belt went back to its original form. He carefully unbuckled me looking over my body for injuries.
When he was satisfied that removing me wouldn't cause more damage then help he slipped his arm under my knees and the other cradling my upped torso. He lifted me with ease. His long arms held me above the car as he backed out keeping his blue orbs centered on my face looking for signs of discomfort.
I watched his face, the face from my dream, the face of my angel. His black hair seemed to disappear in the shadows. Yet his eyes centered him, thick eyelashes and laugh lines surrounded the two most beautiful pieces of art I had ever seen.
I barely noticed the pain I should have been in as he sat down on the ground with his back against the car. Starring up at the sky watching the colors change as it turned to night. He held me close I could feel his arms constricting as if he was making a quick decision and then they would loosen, he changed his mind.
“I dream about you.” I told him my voice was small but held no shame or embarrassment as I caught his eyes with mine.
I was taken back at the sadness that coated over his, but I couldn't look away.
“They'll be here in a few minutes.” Was all he spoke. Then taking his hand from my waist he laid it on my head and pulled me close. Kissing my bloody temple he whispered, “I dream about you too, more then you'll ever know.”
Standing with me still in his arms he carefully laid me out on the damp grass.
Then he was gone.
The war lord and the princess came from two different worlds that were one of the same. He lived in a world full of blood, hatred and power. His life was wound to the tip of his sword. He fought for no one but himself; he believed in no god.
She was the opposite, the gods where the center of her life. She flinched at the sight of blood, criticized her brothers for carrying a sword. And begged her father often not to send their country off to war. She wanted peace.
Both were so far apart on the grid of morals. Yet on the grid of emotions he never thought he had and those she never thought would surface, they were both parallel. She balanced out his hate and he helped her survive the wars of the world.
My mother would always end with this, two worlds collided and in their unison is how the body was finally able to hold both hate and love.
Sour on the tongue and a sweet taste.
I smiled loosely, as I imagined the story over and over in my mind. I didn't pay attention to the wetness trailing down my face, I most be out in the rain. I started to go over the story again when I realized how impossible that was.
Out in the rain? Had I not just been driving...
A sharp pain slithered into my skull, I moaned trying to open my eyes. The steering wheel was blurry my head was laid flat against it. I turned my head to look out my window, there was no window. I could see the bark of the tree that was pressed against the car. Little pieces of glass decorated the car door like tinsel.
I moved my head to look in the other direction and then hissed as my head rubbed up against the steering wheel. I lifted myself off the steering wheel leaning back in my seat I lifted my shaking hand up to my forehead.
Bring my hand down I saw my finger tips where covered in blood. I gagged, soon my breathing was coming in ragged triggering a snagging feeling in my chest.
“Help!” My voice held no power I was shaking to much for my voice to come out with power.
I looked out the cracked windshield it was starting to get dark out. I tried to unbuckle my seat belt but I found that my door had ever so nicely bent itself over the buckle making it impossible for release. I glanced down at the steering wheel, I blinked and then laughed a cold bitter filled laugh.
My father had taken out the air bags, to prevent suffocation. My mother had hit her head off her door and was knocked out, when the air bag opened she landed face first into it. And she didn't move until the fire fighters teared the eighteen wheeler's bed off her car and then carried her lifeless body out.
The sudden opening of a door made me flash out of my thoughts I looked over at the passenger door.
“Ian.” The name slipped through my lips like a liquid that was both sour and sweet.
He looked up startled his blue eyes held worry as he climbed into the car. Ian moved quickly with a quick shove of his hand the bent metal preventing the removal of my seat belt went back to its original form. He carefully unbuckled me looking over my body for injuries.
When he was satisfied that removing me wouldn't cause more damage then help he slipped his arm under my knees and the other cradling my upped torso. He lifted me with ease. His long arms held me above the car as he backed out keeping his blue orbs centered on my face looking for signs of discomfort.
I watched his face, the face from my dream, the face of my angel. His black hair seemed to disappear in the shadows. Yet his eyes centered him, thick eyelashes and laugh lines surrounded the two most beautiful pieces of art I had ever seen.
I barely noticed the pain I should have been in as he sat down on the ground with his back against the car. Starring up at the sky watching the colors change as it turned to night. He held me close I could feel his arms constricting as if he was making a quick decision and then they would loosen, he changed his mind.
“I dream about you.” I told him my voice was small but held no shame or embarrassment as I caught his eyes with mine.
I was taken back at the sadness that coated over his, but I couldn't look away.
“They'll be here in a few minutes.” Was all he spoke. Then taking his hand from my waist he laid it on my head and pulled me close. Kissing my bloody temple he whispered, “I dream about you too, more then you'll ever know.”
Standing with me still in his arms he carefully laid me out on the damp grass.
Then he was gone.