At a mature twenty seven years old, I thought I had the world pretty much figured out. I knew what I wanted and I always knew exactly how to get it. Cold as that sounds, I lived my life through honesty and virtue, never taking from others what I could earn on my own. I had learned during my childhood that fathers couldn't be counted on to rescue you when you needed them as mine had walked out the door. I thought I had become hardened to that, and kept reassuring myself that I would be self-sufficient - I would never rely on any man. I would never let any man in my heart.

Fast-forward to January and I met him. He was a breath of fresh air, someone that I had known for years but never really considered and then one day I looked at him and he was different. He felt different. He has never raised a hand in anger or thrown an unkind word my way and honestly, that scared me. I didn't know how to deal with this man that wanted to show me nothing but love and didn't expect anything in return. I finally let my guard down and he completely captured me. Our relationship has been a breeze with the exception of the occasional wrench I throw in it. I'm still learning how to deal with my emotions positively and how to control the ever-present anxiety that presents itself at the most inappropriate times, yet he makes me feel like that's completely normal. I'm not a damsel in distress to him, simply someone he loves that needs his help sometimes.

Someone that needs his help more and more as the months pass, and my body grows and changes with the child that we didn't expect but happily prepare for. Now that my body is not just my own, sometimes I am overcome with emotion and can't express properly how much I care for him. Sometimes my frustrations get the better of me and I snap out of anger. Sometimes we lie awake at night with our backs turned, trying to find the words to fill the silence but too afraid to hurt the other. On these nights I whisper, "I love you" as tears fill my eyes and I wait for him to tell me to leave, that he's done with this song and dance and he wants no part of me anymore. Instead he turns over and places his arm around me, hand firmly on my stomach as if to say, "I'm here, and I'm not leaving." This small gesture causes me to collapse, hormones getting the best of me as I let my worst fear become realized - I am afraid of losing him.

This morning, when he told me he loved me too, seemed to give me life again. I know that feeling of reassurance is only temporary, and when the hormones shift and the anxiety takes over, I'll be counting down again, trying my best to keep him happy though I know he doesn't expect me to. I know that the same fight will ensue - the tears will return, with whispered words in the awkward quiet of the bedroom as I try to convince him that I'm worth keeping - and I know his reaction will always be the same. I place my hands on my still-growing stomach and know that this little girl will never have to worry about absentee fathers and wondering if people love her.

This little girl will have more family, more affection, more love than those that have come before her. This little girl will wake every day with a smile on her face and wonder in her eyes, knowing her mommy and daddy are waiting for her, and playtime is now. I close my eyes and can't help but feel emotional, because I know that I chose the perfect man to be her father.

Buildings burn on my TV,

Fanning the flame burning in me.

As a white man with four little kids,

I’m ashamed of this world in which we live.

I love everyone, white or black,

but still I feel guilt for where we're at

in a world so large, with so much chance,

it's sad we made our Brothers take a stand.

But that's life in 2020.

I wear a mask and stand six feet away,

haven't seen my grandmother in months and days.

I call to talk to her, but it's not the same.

The quarantine has us feeling insane.

A cough in the supermarket, we all look 'round,

since we can't talk, we watch the ground.

We pray more now than ever before,

that we can all be safe and re-open our stores.

But that's life in 2020.

With the rising flames and falling ash,

I think we all lose some of the past,

a past that wasn't perfect, and less so for those,

whose color of skin match a hangman's clothes.

The virus sweeping from shore to shore,

makes us forget our neighbors and bar the doors.

We need to stand side-by-side, hand-in-hand,

uniting ourselves across the land.

But this is life in 2020.

We are not houses,

or cemeteries,

or even a safe space

to lick open wounds.

We are not here to

rehabilitate broken

souls or bury their

unclaimed baggage

within our bones.

We are women with

blood that runs black,

disguised behind

petals and eyelashes

that resemble a

butterfly’s wings.

We are the women that

find themselves shackled

to sad lovers that desire

a home within us,

but haven’t an idea

what “home” even is.

We were not meant

for the pedestals or

carpets of men,

or hiding behind

curls and naïveté.

We emerged from fire

to be carried to the sea,

baptized within the

love affair between

sky and water.

We are women, healers

and guides, that carry

the light and love of the

universe instilled in

our watery cores.

We are also destruction,

hurricanes with bright

red lips and tornadoes

of oppression and fury.

Our patience and

compassion has been

misunderstood for centuries,

and we are the women

that are changing that.

We are not houses,

or cemeteries,

and anything

abandoned

here will go up

in flames with

the bridges that

we burn along

the way.

“That son of a bitch.” Xavier cursed under his breath. He slammed his door and with his back against it, slid to the floor. His face twinged in pain at the sudden movements.

Dimitri was sprawled out on Xavier’s bed, he lowered his book into his lap.

“You know, brother, he wouldn’t be so hard on you if you didn’t patronize him.”

Xavier humorlessly laughed, “what would be the fun in that?”

Dimitri shook his head. If only Dimitri knew how hard Lucius pushed him.

“At least I don’t take orders unquestionably.” Xavier narrowed his eyes.

Dimitri shut his book with force. Instead of being baited into an argument, however, Dimitri picked up the ragged little stuffed dog sitting on Xavier’s bed and held it up. Its fur was now ragged, fluffing a tad limp, and the fur now a darker white than it used to be. Xavier stared at the dog in his arms. It was more than a stuffed dog, it was the symbol of friendship and brotherhood between the two. The first gift he had recieved in this wretched place.

“I can’t believe you still have this thing.” Dimitri laughed holding it by its ear.

Xavier smirked, “that old thing?” He shrugged. Dimitri raised an eyebrow, but held the dog to his chest, looking like the small little kid he used to be. As if he was thinking about the time he had given it to Xavier as a child.

“Why don’t you have the maid clean it?” Dimitri asked, investigating and poking at it.

Xavier shrugged, “he’s got character now. If you washed it, it wouldn’t show everything its been through.”

“I’m sure Muffin would be happier not remembering how it got dragged through mud. Or the time when the cat got to it and scratched out its eyeball.” Dimitri turned the dog towards him and shook it, its little head bobbing dramatically with the lack of neck fluff. The single beady eye staring at Xavier as if to make a point.

Xavier half smiled. He pushed up from the ground, grunting in slight pain. Dimitri set Muffin down carefully and proceeded to slide off the bed. “I’ll go now so you can rest.”

Xavier nodded, a wave of exhaustion washed over him. Dimitri clasped his shoulder as he walked by, a sympathetic smile on his face. Xavier’s lips tugged upward into a half smile and waited until Dimitri shut the door.

He let out a breath and walked over to his dresser. Carefully, Xavier pulled off his dirt and slightly scorched shirt. In the mirror he inspected his torso. He noticed day by day he was getting stronger. He had gained some weight in muscle with lines forming defined muscles. Day by day he also gained pain tolerance. Bruises already began to form on his torso, a few reddening circles offsetting his olive toned skin, in a few days they would turn blue and purple. He twisted to inspect his back. Lucky enough he didn't have any open wounds, just two long red, puffy welts beginning to form. He scowled. The welts still stung. Grabbing a muscle shirt he pulled it on and over his newly acquired wounds, still invisible in case his brother stormed in.

Despite the cruelty, Xavier wasn't sure he was ready to tell Dimitri that his Father still had the Captain training him to fullest. More like beating him until he was able to muster his power of fire. If Dimitri found out, he might put the both of them at risk.

#TheForbiddens #angst #secret #fiction #Xavier #Dimitri

Wiping away the fog that obscurs your reflection,

Your eyes tear up from the haze of the steam,

As you stare, lost in the lines of your existence

With the sound of the dripping tap filling your ears,

As the water trickles down the murky depths of the black hole,

You search for a purpose in the window to your soul,

Grasping for the straw in the dark,

As you think to yourself;

“This can’t be it.”

- Lady Bell

The darkness hides in half smiles

And venomous words cloaked with honey.

It hides in the eyes who have seen too much

and in the hearts of those who have felt hushed.

The darkness hides

to crevices untouched.

Burrowing deeper

waiting for light, its seeker.

#poem #darkness #light

Xavier crawled out of the closet he had hid in, light filling the space. He blinked a few times to adjust to the light. From the ground, he looked up to his mother. Her hair was frazzled, purple and blue painting the skin around her eye. His lips trembled as he took her in, tears flowing from his face.

“Mo-momma, not-not again?” Xavier’s voice trembled, stuttering.

A small smile crept on her face as she took in Xavier’s shaking frame into her arms. His face was smushed against her thin frame, his arms wrapped around her protectively. He noticed a small bag in her hand, clinging from coins that they hadn’t had for a while. Xavier stepped back from his mother and smacked the bag from her hand. The little pouch fell to the floor. Little coins clanged against the ground as they spilled out, silence filled the air as the coins settled.

Xavier knew one thing. The coins, the fresh food, the inns they stayed at, were not worth the pain he saw on his mother’s face, nor the pain he felt in her heart.

He expected her to shout, a reprimand, something.

Silence. They stared at each other for a moment. Xavier with his bottom lip stuck out, slightly quivering; narrowing eyes in defiance, fists clenched in anger. Xavier didn’t look down as his fists began to warm, but his mother instantly looked down at the curled fists, watching the little embers encasing his fist. Her eyes filled with tears, but didn’t let them fall.

She knelt down to Xavier’s height and pulled him in close. She pressed her forehead against his. Xavier began to calm, flames extinguished, as he stared into his mother’s eyes. Ice blue like his. Focusing on her eyes, her eyes were crossed funny so that he saw three eyes, he smiled a little.

“Xavier, I want you to have this.” She pulled away for a second and pulled a necklace over her head. He rarely saw the beautiful necklace, for she typically had it hidden under her shirt.

She placed it into his small hand, the entire dragon pendant filling the palm. The black dragon was set in a scowl, fearsome with its teeth slightly bared. He had to admit that it was kind of scary looking. Its wings were sharp with talons at the tips, but they curled around a reddish orb, inside a swirling eddy. It was enthralling. At first glance it just looked like a marble that one would play games with, but there a slight glow to it. The contents inside were a swirling mixture of red, cream, and flecks of black. It wasn’t a set pattern, but the contents moved like fog, swirling inside the gem.

Xavier’s tears went away, transfixed by the foggy red orb.

“What is it?”

“Destiny.”

“Density?”

His mom chuckled, “This is the Dragon of Protection. He will always keep you safe.”

“He’s kind of scary.”

“Well, he has to scare off the bad guys.”

Xavier turned the dragon over in his hands.

“B-but he didn’t protect you.” Xavier said, eyes falling to the ground.

Her warm fingers clasped his chin, softly tilting his head up to look at her, her eyes were sad.

“But I still have you and that’s all I can ask for. Is that you are safe.”

Xavier wrapped his little fingers around the dragon orb pendant, and closed the gap between them hugging her tightly.

I’ll never let anything bad happen to you again. Xavier promised his mom silently.

#xavier #dragon #protector #protection #sad #TheForbiddens

Xavier’s eyes widened, he said in barely a whisper that Dimitri almost didn’t hear him.

“There’s...a monster inside me...I feel him sometimes. Biding his time. Waiting for his time to control.”

Dimitri recalled the fire in his brother’s eyes. Seeing yet unseeing. With emotion, yet unfeeling. As if he actually was seeing from someone else completely.

“Xavier, you’ve been through so much. Sometimes, when you get angry, you just slip into a rage. No one’s blaming you for that. I mean, we need to learn a way to control your anger, but it’s just a reaction.”

Xavier sighed, shaking his head. He knew it sounded crazy, he knew his brother wouldn’t believe him.

But, there was a demon waiting to claw its way to the surface. Waiting for him to crack.

No. I will stay strong.

#demon #fiction #short #Xavier #Dimitri #magic #fantasy

Struggling to trust,

My heart begins to rust.

You want in,

I want out.

Out the walls,

In your arms.

You beg and plea:

“Let me in!”

I am deaf to your cries.

I'm a hostage to my own mind,

It saying,

Everyone I love will (try) to hurt me.

I know something's wrong with me,

I’m broken beyond repair.

There’s no need to (attempt) to comfort me,

With the pain no one should bear.

I want out this prison,

To find freedom,

But freedom is a fantasy.

A lie everyone wishes to believe.

Just leave me with my trust issues,

We know you deserve better.

I wish I could be better;

I want to be better;

But I fear that's impossible.

My heart is locked and the key hidden,

Somewhere in your soul.

But maybe it’s easier to leave me,

Then to mend me.

We all know, no one likes broken things.

And that is what I am.

I am a broken thing, full of rust and broken trust.

~Shadows