alyblythe
I didn't expect it. I didn't want it. I fought with it, struggled against it. Exhausted, it consumed me.
I faced the next day with weary readiness. I couldn't be the same as I had been - impossible - but the lesson was asking too much of me. Wrong and flawed and unhealthy as my life had been beforehand, it had at least been my life. Familiar.
The epiphany? Terrifying.
I wouldn't sacrifice myself, not any part. I wouldn't. It wouldn't be necessary. It shouldn't be necessary.
I knew it, believed it. Down deep, right down to the bone, as seriously as I'd believed or known anything. Yet, it seemed to be a question. It seemed to be possible.
"No way,' I said and walked out, closing the door in the face of his objections.
The volume of their voices was unbearable. Glass shook. Lights danced a ballet of violence all along the street. Somewhere, somebody shattered.
I shook myself, ran away from the window, headed to the back of the house. It was probably too late, but I had to try to get away.
The pond rippled; I remained still. Breathing deep. The stillness had to fill me, become me; I had to become it. My breath, my mind... every cell had to find its stillness and simply, become.
I watched my mentor: he made it look so easy. He pulled the baby bird up from the ground and held it by its wing. It cheeped sadly, but didn't fight.
"Don't make a mockery of what we are,' he said and, reaching up, placed the bird back in its nest. "We are artists, not animals. Refine. Practice. Be proud."
"So what next?" I asked.
"We go hunting in the place that deserves us," he said, and pointed to the east, to the lights of the city blinking on the horizon.
It was automatic. I pounced. The rabbit squirmed and squealed - fragile like spun sugar - but my hands had found its neck and I squeezed.
That was my first mistake.
Within seconds - less - there was a crunch and the rabbit went limp. Eyes glazed. The warmth fled. I was left with a dead and useless thing, cold and hungry.
Blossoms lifted their head: daises and roses and buttercups. Bright faces amongst the green. A blue sky and white clouds... a carnival of colour. And me, amongst them, lying still. I breathed deep and thrilled: fresh air in my throat, the taste of spring. I was alive and awake. And I was hungry.