Sunday, September 23, 2012

Destiny

I often wonder about destiny. They tell me I am destined for greatness. I can end the war. I am special. I am Clieto’s gift. I am confused by their hype because the men in the carriage called me a curse. They say people died because of me, that I should have died in that fire. It would make everyone safer. I tell myself they said that to justify their actions. They did it because they knew dropping me off here was wrong. But, there is so much about before the fire that I can’t remember. How can I argue with them? But, what am I? Am I a special weapon meant to save the country? Or am I a curse that should be disposed of? They talk of destiny a lot here. We are soldiers. We are destined to serve and fight for our country. They never mention the other destiny. We are destined to die for our country as well. The soldiers accept Captain’s rants of destiny and fight. They whoop and holler at him. They talk at dinner of wanting to be on the battlefield. But there is a big difference between us. They chose to be here. I did not.

Can we choose our destiny? If so, what if I just want to be a girl? What if I want to live in a small town? Maybe not Atlas. I don’t think I can ever go back there. Not after they let Menelaus kill my parents. But I can move to another small town. Live alone and never bother anyone. I find myself straying after evening weaponry lessons, looking at Captain…wanting to beg him. I promise not to hurt anyone. I promise I will be a good girl. If they would just let me go, I promise I will never be a problem again. I don’t know if I killed all those people like the carriage men said. I can’t remember. But I won’t do it again if I did. I promise to never kill, to never transform. If they will just let me go.

But I don’t think we can choose our destiny. I think it is chosen for us. And mine is this. I don’t know why. I don’t think I am worthy. But, Captain tells me I can save the country. Captain says I can save lives. Maybe if I do, they’ll let me go. Maybe they will let me live alone and choose my destiny. But, I’m scared of war. I’m scared to die.

I have to go. Zeno dusted my clothes with some sort of powder and now I have a rash down my back. Doctor told me to come see him before curfew. I am still trying to figure out my retaliation. Maybe the universe is right. Maybe this is my destiny. Maybe I was born for this.

Sunday, September 16, 2012

The Smell of Fear

How does someone live as a wolf without becoming an animal? I have often wondered this in the dead of night, when sleep fails and the night is silent. I love the life of a wolf. Back at home, I knew the woods better than my own house. I knew the pattern of the bark against the sky. I knew the folds of the land and the curves of the rivers. One glance at my surrounding and I could give my exact location from town, down to the last measured millimeter. Better than sight, I love the smells of home. I could be half a day away, and still pick up the wholesome brewing of mom’s stew. I long for the feel of fall air sifting through my fur, like Clieto’s soft hands running down my back.

The smells and sights are different here. This little island is practically void of trees, although there are a few still surrounding the beaches. I can hear the tide at night. It took one time mentioning how the stormy waters kept me up at night—one subsequent eye roll—to realize no one else heard the sound…and believed I hadn’t either. This island reeks with the smell of fear. Fear cast an interesting smell. Almost like wild dandelions soaked in vinegar. That contrast of sweet and bitter is unforgettable. I smell it a lot on the boys. They are scared. It seeps in their sweat as they practice combat skills. It saturates the room when we learn battle strategies and discuss the army’s current movements in the war. It permeates the most when Captain makes me hunt them. They are easy marks in these exercises. It’s another excuse for them to hate me, which would be worth it if I was challenged. But, I wonder if the cost of this practice is too high.

My wolf form is no longer relaxing. It is a means to an end. It is a weapon for their battle. I can never transform unless there is a mission behind it. Sometimes I think Captain worries about my transformation. He is training a killer animal. He is training a weapon of death. He should be worried about harnessing such a trait. It all makes me question....can I be a wolf and still be human? When I roam as a wolf, I sometimes feel it inside me. I feel different. I feel instincts I never feel when on two legs. Should I be worried like Captain? Should I not like being in wolf form? Will it ultimately change me into an animal…into a curse?

Zeno does not smell like fear. He does not look away from me when he sees my fur. That is when I can smell my own fear start to seep.

Saturday, September 8, 2012

Liars and Wars

“When we get to Neptune Island, it’ll all be okay.” That’s what the men said, the guards who brought me here. I wonder if Clieto really does strike liars down with lightening like my mother always said. I suspect she lied about this…there’s a term for that, I bet. The thought of them being hit from the heavens makes me smile. If they are not sorry for bringing me here, then I am not sorry for smiling. Although, maybe they are in fact still breathing, transporting some new precious cargo somewhere else. I must say today was the first day I began to believe them.

 It started with cold water dumped on me early this morning. I think I had only slept for half the night, but that icy liquid stole my breath and woke every nerve in my body. I knew what it was. Captain was conducting another late night training exercise. He likes to say we won’t sleep on the battlefield, so shouldn’t become too used to such a luxury. I think he is dumb sometimes. They didn’t even let me change, rushing me out to formation. It was dark, but Selene was full and the white light bright enough to confirm the rest did have wet hair, but dry clothes. Guess it’s my curse for being the last on the list to wake. We began our run through the island perimeter. About a quarter in, Zeno stepped on my shoe. I still don’t know how he did it without breaking formation, but I should have known not to let him run behind me. I felt the strap break before the tug. The scratches from my fall still sting. Worse, as I watched the group move away, I knew I would have to run barefoot. But, I promised myself long ago not to let them see me cry. So I took off the other shoe and powered on. I felt every rock and pebble on the ground jab into my feet, but I pushed on. I am the true soldier. All their efforts to break me only prove it.

Besides, Captain chewed Zeno out in front of the entire group when he didn’t clean out the bunk house. He claimed his name wasn’t on the schedule, which it wasn’t until it somehow appeared there. I couldn’t help but wink at him as I passed by on the way to combat training. I know I started a war, but really it already existed. I will worry about that tomorrow. For now, as I can feel every pore as I soak my foot in the salt solution the doctor assigned for my cuts, I know witnessing that look on his face makes all the pain worth it. So, Clieto, maybe you shouldn’t strike the carriage drivers down with lightning just yet.

Monday, September 3, 2012

New Beginnings

I think of my father a lot. I think of his green eyes watching me as I play in the field behind our house. If I close my eyes hard enough, I can almost smell the sweet pine. I think that smell will always linger with me...telling me I'm home. But, without fail, the musky smell of a mattress slept on for too many nights breaks through and I am reminded. He's gone. The house is gone in a fire. And I am not home.

The training camp is okay. At least King Menelaus is at least a week away. He can't come for me in the dead of night. He can't snatch me away from this bed. I want to blame him for my lack of friends here. I want to say it is because I fear watching them burn as I did my family. But that would be a lie. I have tried to make friends. I have tried to fit in amongst these soldiers in training. The bruise aching on my back reminds me of their hate. Maybe I am not meant to fit in anywhere. Maybe I am destined to be alone. Maybe I should just accept this training camp as the start of a new life.

I hear the night guard coming to check the barracks. If they find the journal, they will take it. Goodbye for now, my only trusted friend.