Post by crmsndragonwngs on Feb 18, 2013 1:24:15 GMT -5
Our look on life is tempered by the way we've lived thus far.
"I suppose I've never really had an opportunity to prove myself to anyone." The girl standing before me said with a shake of her head, causing her blonde curls to bounce across her shoulders. She was a tiny thing, small in stature but certainly not in presence. She had a loud voice and hard, dark eyes that made her a bit more forceful than she probably intended. Her quirky way of standing told me a lot about her character, and I suppose my intrigue spurred on her sudden and rather unexpected attempt at conversation. "I've always had my nose stuck in books, uninterested in the rest of this foul and rotting world, black with its selfish rivers of corruption. I suppose I've never really been interested in looking for opportunity, but late is better than never, isn't it?"
"Indeed." I answered, assuming her question was not rhetorical, but she waved the word away with the back of her small, delicate hand.
"Perhaps this is my golden opportunity. Perhaps you are the person I am supposed to prove myself to, if not for the sake of fate, then at least for the sake of my sanity." She shook her head again, the curls around her shoulders bouncing frantically, as though trying to keep up. I shrugged, but she was having none of that. "Oh, don't play with me. Indifference is the bane of man, that's what I think. It would suit you to never show emotion at all if the only emotion you possess is indifference." The irony in that statement was almost funny. Then she took a step toward me and my heart fluttered with enough force to take me back a step. She did laugh at that, and I smiled despite myself. "And don't play the nervous gentleman either. If I am to prove myself to you, then you will be man enough to take it, or at least die trying."
"Die trying?" I asked, feeling shock draw my face tight. The words were unsettling, even if their meaning was metaphorical. "Have you intentions of killing me or is your story simply that excruciatingly boring?" I'd meant the last bit as a joke, but she frowned nonetheless. I thought for a moment maybe she'd missed my jest, but she flashed a quick smile that said she'd caught it before furrowing her brow further and snorting.
"If I'd intentions of killing you, I'd have done it already. And you would have never seen my face or heard my voice, as much as I know that would disappoint you." Her humor was quick and biting, and for a moment I'd missed it entirely, which was almost funny in itself considering I'd thought my own humor to have gone over her pretty little head just moments ago. She laughed at the look I'm sure I had on my face and shook her head again, a gesture I was already becoming accustomed to. "Anyway, the small talk seems pointless considering we've already skipped all formalities. Oh don't give me that look, I don't care to know your name at all. Formalities are another bane of man. We jump through hoops to seem polite to other shitting creatures like ourselves, but really what is the point? None of us care to meet anyway, and names will be forgotten within the day, so skipping that part saves time. And that's what life is about, isn't it? Time and how we spend it? Spend it wisely and we may be able to buy a day or two later when we need it." She paused and tilted her head, narrowing her eyes as though she'd realized something she hadn't thought of before. "My mother told me that years ago. I guess I never understood it until now."
"She sounds like a profound woman." I remarked, thinking it was my turn to speak even if I had nothing to say.
"My mother was a pauper and a whore. But her philosophies were those of a worldly woman, something I suppose I'm grateful for." She shook her head once more and I nearly laughed. "We've spent far too much of our precious time talking about time. I think we should proceed with my opportunity, don't you?" I nodded, suddenly a trifle afraid of what she had planned. She was an odd girl, that much I'd figured out on my own.
Then she held out her hand, something I hadn't expected. We were strangers, not even knowing one another's names, but here she was, extending her hand like a miss to her beau. I hesitated at first, but her amused snort and the roll of her dark eyes seemed challenging to me, and I was not one to turn down a challenge.
"Straighten your lapels like the gentleman you think you are and make sure that silly hat is tight on your head. Madness is an avenue and we're going to walk its full length, come hell or high water." She tugged my hand and began to walk, as though her words were not a metaphor at all, and when she glanced back at me her eyes had changed. I gasped and halted my feet, but she was having none of that. She pulled hard on my hand, and I stumbled forward into her world.
I saw screaming faces and buckets of blood. Rotting children begging for change whilst their mothers sold their souls to the Devil. Fathers doled out prescriptions to the homeless for any coin they could get, and the buildings all around were faded and decayed, a sight I'd thought impossible to see.
I was now seeing the world as she saw it, I realized with a start. My affluent breeding had taught me to see the world as an opportunity, but she had only ever seen darkness and decay. Her very first words to me suddenly made sense, and I realized that she did indeed have herself a golden opportunity. An opportunity to teach me, a sheltered and wealthy gentleman a thing or two about life.
She pulled me through this madness with a roughness I almost thought unnecessary and her hand was so tight on mine that I thought she was going to squeeze the life out of it, but when she looked back at me once more, that pain melted away. There was a gentle smile on that porcelain face of hers and her eyes were just as purple as the rising sun, captivating in the way a light at the end of life might be.
"You see," she said, her voice echoing off the rotting cobblestone beneath our feet, "you can't judge a girl by her pretty little face. That face may not show the true horror that the eyes have seen, especially if your own idea of horror is losing your gold cufflinks to those who may need the money. But it's easier to not think of it that way, isn't it?"
And I can say for a fact that it most certainly is easier. Easier indeed.
