Dying to Tell You
She watched as he elegantly scrolled on the parchment inside his black leather book.
Feeling her eyes on him he looked up. Getting caught staring was not something she was
accustomed to, so, blushing deeply she looked away.
"Why do you write in that?" she had asked one time.
He had never answered her
question.
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The finally battle was upon them, and she fought brilliantly. Arrow after arrow flew
from her hand and perfectly hit its target.
Hearing a deafening scream she looked up to see him land the fatal blow upon their foe.
Suddenly her world turned into to chaos as black smoke billowed out from their
adversaries body and blinded her vision.
The slithering smoke had disappeared as she came back to reality. She had been thrown
to the
ground by the force of the explosion. Standing and taking in the
scorched earth she made sure that her companions were accounted for.
She found everyone except one person.
Madly dashing to where his limp body lay, tears welled in her eyes as golden eyes barely
cracked open to see her. He wheezed out a breath trying to say something to her.
Bending closer she carefully cradled his head and put her ear to his lips where he
whispered, "Here, take this." His one good hand rummaged around in his sleeve till he
pulled out his black leather journal and handed it to her shaking hands. "I've always
wanted to tell you…" but then his head drooped. He had died in her arms.
"No! No!" she sobbed into his chest as she clung to him. He wasn't supposed to die! He
had always been the strongest, the wisest. She had always been torn between the two
brothers, but now she knew which one she truly loved. "I love you, it's you." But her
words did him no good because he was already gone.
I clawed hand suddenly appeared in her vision and pulled her to her feat. Now it was his
turn. The other brother bent down, looking at his brother's limp body. "I'm sorry," he
bent his head and cried for the brother he would never get to be with again. Although
they had argued and proclaimed their hatred for each other, they had always been
brothers and the only family each other had. No amount of bickering could change that.
Now he rose also and hugged her as she clutched his brother's journal, bereaved by the
realization that they both had loved him.
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Sitting by the fire she was hallow and cold inside. She stared at the journal, turning it
over and over in her hands, afraid to open it.
This is the only thing you have now to remember him by, she told herself.
With a grand sigh, she opened it to the first page.
I am not who you think I am.
I am not brave as you may believe, but do not ever mistake me for a coward.
I have none to protect, but yet I always contradict myself by protecting her.
I am a cold blooded killer, but the thought of ever harming her sickens me.
She thinks I hate the world and maybe even her.
I am just indifferent to its needs.
She asked me once if I knew how to love.
She does not believe that I can.
I love her.
I do not despise my brother as she believes I do, but I will not recognize him either.
I have my pride and honor.
But I will never have her.
I wander, aimlessly, eagerly hoping to catch a glimpse of her on our rare encounters.
I fight with my brother just to see all the emotions that she can display across her
beautiful face.
This is who I am.
If I told her, would she laugh at me?
Would she believe me?
I know she could never love me.
Anyway… she loves another.
I could never tell her that I love her.
She jokes at me sometimes, telling me I hardly speak because I have nothing to say.
I do not talk because I am afraid I would tell her this.
She told me once that I have no heart.
Mine belongs to her.
Would she ever accept me if I told her who I truly was?
She would not.
I am not who she thinks I am.
I am hers.
She shut the journal with a snap, unable to read anymore.
If I had told him that I love him, would things have ended differently?