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by The Visitor
visitor@mail.cyberus.ca
Why?
Fire drowns out the cry of a dying soul. One of many on a terrible night. The light comes peering across the land, bringing about the end of night.
The end of life.
The end of the world.
SHE rides out with the dawn, the princess without a castle, the warrior drenched in blood. She and her murderers escape into the sunrise, weighed down with the loot of a dead village. Anything they could wrap their executioners' hands around, anything that wasn't destroyed in the fire.
The fire.
She stares at it, it's dying embers, long into the new day. Stares as she has since it began. Then, she had stood so close the tears boiled from her dirty face. Her skin blackened and tore.
She stood in her home. Once her universe. Now an ashen grave.The screams still echoed around her. She had never heard her mother make a sound like that before. It seemed odd, unreal. It had sounded as if everyone in the whole world was dying, all at once. Maybe they were.
Her Sister...we played today, she knew. We splashed in a puddle, after we laughed at breakfast. She danced near the lake in her pretty dress. Her pretty dress, now not even a wisp of coloured smoke rising from a tiny corpse. And for the millionth time today, she asked
Why?
For a thousand years she asked and she asked the question, standing there, screaming, clawing, begging, in the ruin, choking and dying from the inside out as her innocent heart joined her Mother and her Sister and lay helpless before her and still she tried and pleaded and cried for the screams to stop, please, Mother, stop screaming, I don't know what to do...
And as the girl lay in a shallow grave burnt into the earth by hatred, something deep down inside of her whispered in her frightened ear
"Playtime is over, little Callisto."
The voice was her own. The voice was the bloody princess' evil cry. The voice was her Mother and her Sister, screaming as they died. The voice was death.
And the voice was smiling, she knew.
And she embraced the voice of death with her newborn rage and left herself behind to die with her family.
Because nothing else made any sense at all.
The Visitor
