An Introduction of Sorts

500 Million

 

           I would start with an introduction, but you know me already. If in the rare instance you don’t, I can guarantee that at some point you will, depending on a wide range of factors. At that time, you will be lying down (rarely do I find someone who is sitting or standing), shifting uncomfortably in a body that no longer belongs to you. You may or may not have realized what has happened. Either way I will be standing nearby, ready to carry you away.

            Believe it or not, it is tiring. So many endings would be more than enough to drive anyone mad. Unfortunately, not many are up to the gargantuan task I perform. So, I turn to words.

Words have been my form of escape for a very long time.

            They are powerful, moving, abusive things. They wound and heal, uplift and tear down, and constantly bring people together only to rip them apart at the nearest opportunity. A lot of people don’t think about language like I do, but I suppose that’s because I can remember the time before it existed.

            My job was easier back then. All I had to do was pick up the souls of the creatures that died. Nothing weighed them down or held them back. They were lighter than air, filled to the brim with ignorance and simple-mindedness. Those were the good old days.

            Yes, even I have those. How could I not, considering how long I’ve been around?

            Eventually things changed, as they are so apt to do, and the human race emerged. With them they brought their civilizations, their languages, and their wars. I’ve heard that war is necessary for humans to move forward. That it increases the demand for new technologies and medicines that can be used after the slaughter to advance the modern world. After I heard that, I wondered:

            Do they know that the blood of their brothers is the price for these things? That every war is a civil war? Maybe they do, but perhaps they think it’s a fair trade.

            I can tell you it is not.

            But, then again, I can’t expect them to understand. After all, they don’t walk the battlefields like I do, with the souls of the dead soldiers and civilians hanging from them like a coat. Like patchwork quilts made of burnt flesh, close-cropped hair, and filled with bloody organ-like stuffing. Sometimes they are missing limbs, or even the stuffing. Sometimes, they are no longer stitched together, thanks to bombs or landmines.

            They are heavier than they used to be. The memories and dreams they all carry make them unbearably heavy. Despite this, the dead are never as bad as the ones who, in the midst of the confusion, are left behind. The survivors have shattered minds, beaten hearts, and eyes that bleed the regret they feel. I can never tear my eyes away from them no matter how hard I try. I see the shock from the terrible realizations they reach, how they fold in on themselves like pieces of paper. The crinkling sobs never truly leave my ears.

            Which is where the words come in.

            I hear all kinds of words in my line of work. There are so many different kinds, each one different than the last. I make a point of taking every single one in, rolling it over my tongue, marveling at the sounds and shapes of the letters. Anything to keep me distracted.

            While I love words, I don’t read much as much as I’d like to. I simply never have the time. I can count the books I’ve read on one hand. It was a very special exception. It could even be considered a special edition, one-of-a-kind. The original is very popular, but I have to say I like the second one better. The author was a young girl who had a knack for being left behind.

            I saw her three times before the end.
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A/N: Okay, so I know some people might want to punch me in the face right now for this sorry excuse for a chapter, but this isn't my usual writing style, so it took WAAAAAAAAY longer than I expected. As consolation, I will let you know that I have the next few chapters typed already.

And guess what? I am officially a registered student at Slipper Rock University! :DDDDD I will be there in the fall doing college things xD

You guys should also watch this video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V3LkQ3BUjWI&list=FLSyrr-8fA0L9nJWzqFCqZnw&index=3&feature=plpp_video 

Because it is so freaking beautiful. Also, check out Julia Nunes. She looks like my friend Nicole and acts like my friend Abby so basically she's the epitome of awesome. 

I hope you all have wonderful days.

<3 Kestrelsong

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KunoichiHakira666
#1
Wow. From the description, you had me captured with so few words. Within the first two paragraphs, your style reminded me of Lewis Carroll. I really haven't read something like this in a long time - It's very poetic. I found the batting back and forth between opinions throughout something familiar to me, personally. "every war is a civil war" really stuck with me.I hope you write another piece like this when the inspiration grabs you.
Saranghamnida~ \(^_^)/
Ethrel #2
Twin...twin I have no words hush your mouth about this being a sorry chapter I will hit you. I will always love your style you have no freaking idea.
abirdssong
#3
Lovely start! Your language is really strong and I love the various contrasting terms you've used. This chapter had got me intrigued. Subbing for sure ^^v