Imprinted Years

The room is empty and damp, but that’s what I like about it. The loneliness that brings peace and the coldness that brings intrigue.

Who was here before me?

Has any ghost ever walked these paths?

Yes. I believe in ghosts, paranormal activity and truthfully overall, I am quite a spiritual person. Maybe it’s because my father possesses many godly gifts like the gift to shape shift and the ability to wipe average beings out within a minute or even less.

My father is strong, but not like I am.

He grew me to be ignorant to true strength. Such strength can never be determined by your power, but merely, by your heart. I love him and about a month or so ago, I still believed I needed him, but I don’t.

I have grown now and I’m almost a complete adult, as I do still have many more paths to walk and many more worlds to venture.

Right now, Earth is good enough for me and to be honest, I never want to leave it, but I fear that someday father will need to return to his home.

Asgard.

Will I go with him?

Do I want to go with him even?

Like I said, I love my father and I would do anything for him, anything other than leaving Jessica. I love Benedict, but Jessica is whom I am bound to.

She is who I call my sister, not because I want to exactly, but because I have grown to accept that she is as close to a sister that I’ll ever have.

Her hair, like mine, is Auburn.

Her eyes, prettier than mine, are also an Earthy blue-green.

Her smile, suspicious yet bold when used correctly, is almost identical to my own.

But her heart, so strong, beautiful, considerate and caressing, is far purer than what I dare to call my heart.

I’ve never had the heart to look out for others the way she does.

Protect them, even. I could never do what she does in a million years. Her ways imprint me in the most beautiful ways still, even though I’ve already known her for as long as I can remember.
I love her more than anything, but I worship her more than that, as she is the bird I always wanted to be.

She is the girl, I always aspired to become, but we are our own idols.

I need to learn to idolize myself, but to do that; I must become a good person. Like her, I must learn to forget whatever sins or faults I may have and I need to hope for a brighter future.

One that is brighter than the dim, empty future that is promised when all you ever do is give up. I am done being the snail that hides away from the light just so the birds up above won’t eat me up.

I don’t care anymore.

If tomorrow is when I must die, then die I will, but with pride.

If tonight is when I must fly, then fly I will, but I will do so with life in my lungs and a smile worn on my lips.

If I am meant to be saved by these kind, beautiful souls, then I’ll let them save me again and again, but I sure will make amends someday.

I will be there for them, like they’ve been here for me.

I promise.

…
“Why are you here?” I hear a demanding voice from behind, but I know I recognise it, even though it is now distorted and angrier than usual, I know that this voice belongs to someone I love.

Benedict.

“Because…” How can I explain this?

Currently, I am stumbling over random pieces of ancient furniture in a damp, cold and intriguing room, which was previously empty of other living organisms until my boyfriend decided to stalk upon me.

Why am I here?

What am I looking for?

I know there’s something, as there has to be, but I can’t really remember myself, if I’m being truthfully honest. I do know that there is something though.

I remember this room.

…