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Gravestone: relato de amor, melancolia y esperanza


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#1 sofia

sofia

    VERDADERA defensora/fan de megaman/rockman!!!


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Pais:
Panama
Sexo:
Femenino
Signo:
Virgo
Desde:
Pueblo Nuevo, Panama
Energia:
Cosmos:
Ataque:
Defensa:
Velocidad:
Victorias:
0
Derrotas:
0
Total:
0

Publicado 13 julio 2004 - 08:43

Preface

It is known, or maybe only said or believed, that whenever mankind, or a small part of it, is on the edge of self-destruction, a divine power sees the misery and comes to life in a shape that is understandable to the poor human mind. Once there had been Christ, another time there had been Krishna, another time there had been Buddha, and then there are others we never knew about, who were only there to help a small group of people getting out of the darkness.
Any ethnicity sticks to the story that is the most comfortable to them, to the Divinity they understand best and are best educated to cope with, and so they depend on that divinity: praying, offering sacrifices, in the shape of animals, of flowers, of fasting, of corporal self-punishment, and doing so, they live in the belief they have done something that will grant them the love and attention of their God, and their well living.
Many people believe the real God is yet to come to this Earth to redeem mankind. Many people believe that God is already here, but hasn’t been here before. Many people believe in many Gods, many people only in one, and they also start wars and fights in order to have their belief prevail on the others. One thing, though, is certain: whoever that God is, He or She has only one purpose: bring humankind toward light, in a way or the other, and His/Her design is so perfect and high, that we will never be able to understand, because if we would, we wouldn’t need to start a war in the name of that God. So that God or Goddess tries to give us justifications and explanations of his deeds, but we cannot understand, so those explanations have to turn into senseless rules, because that is all our undeveloped mind is ready to understand.

This story happens in an unidentified moment in History; it can be in a parallel universe, or in a not so improbable and too far future, in a world that has been confused, distressed, vituperated by wars, nuclear weapons, outbreaks, famines, thefts, evilness and terror, and that is slowly trying to get back in track. In such a world, a Goddess decided, years before, to be born in human shape, and follow the uncomfortable human path of life.
This Goddess was Athena, the Goddess of wisdom, and she had decided to come to life in the shape of a woman named Saori Kido to fight against the Evil powers that bring Mankind to wars, hate, and misery. These evil powers have always stood against the Goddess, but besides her, there stood, fighting to protect her and the world, a group of warriors. These warriors were human born, but with amazing powers, that the Goddess had created for them when they were still walking their paths through completion in other lives.
The warriors were men and women, who felt the call of the Goddess at a tender age, and left to get trained in the army that would protect the world against evil. Athena was a maiden divinity, and she had wanted women, as well as men, to stand beside her as warriors, but she had also set hard rules for them. The female warriors had to be virgins, and wear a special mask all their lives and never take it off. In the case a man would see their face, they had either to kill him, or be their brides, and in case neither of the two options would come to being resolved, then they’d have to leave the order of the warriors of Athena forever, in shame.
The warriors, after an inhuman training, were assigned, if they prevailed on all of the other trainees, a special armor, which could be Golden, or Silver, or Bronze, and took its power out of a special constellation assigned to it. The Gold cloths were assigned to the strongest warriors, and so down with the others.
This short tale won’t talk about the struggles and divine battles the warriors went through. It won’t talk about the gain of their cloths, nor will it talk about the amazing powers that had made them a legend. This story won’t talk about what they were born to be: this story will talk about what they weren’t born to be: flesh and blood humans, who weren’t brought into this world to fight as their choice, they were brought with no choices at all: war machines for a power they didn’t understand, sacrificial lambs for a mankind who didn’t even know their names, nor most of the battles against evil Gods they fought to save them. People with a desperate need for a normal life, for love, for a refuge, for arms to hold them, for somebody to hold…
This is the story of two of them Milo, the Scorpio warrior, and Shaina, the Ophiuchus warrior, and their useless struggle to have a life, to live a love, to create a family, to be humans. Their blessing and their curse: being chosen to live to save other people, to save all people, save for those that mattered the most to them…

Gravestone


The air is sparkly, the sun is slowly starting to come down, and the sky has no clouds on the land of Greece in this early summer day. The man is walking slowly, savoring the warm rays on his skin, down the familiar path; too familiar…way too familiar…painfully familiar.
The warm, slow, unstoppable Grecian wind moves the black waves of his hair; caressing them like a loving mother, as if to encourage him to take those few more steps. The cemetery is on a steep hill, overlooking the Aegean Sea. He comes here quite often, even once or twice a week, but still, after two years, he needs to be encouraged to get in.
He has often wondered if the dead feel better being in such a beautiful place, if it makes a difference…if they can see; damned world of stupid superstition! He has had the best education and still feels he has to stick some coins in the pocket of someone who dies in order for that person to pay the toll to Caron, to enter the underworld!
The restless, beautiful blue eyes glimmer with a tear at the sight of the tomb. He can't stay away from this little gravestone for a long time. He can feel its weight in his heart: every single ounce of it. "Parents should never survive their children", he thinks, "And maybe children should never come to parents like me."
He is always seen cleaning the surroundings of the little tomb, and keeping weeds and dirt away from it; he always decorates it with flowers. Actually, somebody has planted multicolored pansies all around, maybe the cemetery keeper and his wife. They have known him since he was little.
He never sees them around when he comes: Everybody feels funny being around him coming to visit his son's grave. Maybe it's because the pain is too strong, and the misfortune too unjustified, so probably they don't know what to say to him. What could people say, after all? Maybe: "I am so perdon," "You didn't deserve this," and things of the like?
Nothing can be soothing enough to a heart that has been struck by such tragedy. So when people see him or his wife, they just behave like nothing is going on and greet him respectfully. Fair enough to him. He is not the people person he used to be long time ago, when the responsibility had never struck his mind for a second.

He kneels down. Sometimes he also talks to the picture of the baby on the stone. Maybe, in some remote, pain-crazed, hidden space of his mind, he hopes that the picture will start moving, and come to life, and he lays his head on the cold granite and hopes to hear his giggles and sounds…The most difficult thing to accept is that he won’t! He won’t hear him again…He died when his beautiful, heart-shaped lips, very much like his mother’s had just started to form the word "Pa-pa", daddy…

"Oh! You are here!" Her voice comes low and confused to his mind, which is too busy admiring Justin's picture on the monument. He turns to look at her, while still kneeling down, "Yes…I always am. I didn't know you'd come here too," he says in a sweet tone; his eyes betraying the adoration he feels for her; his venerated wife, who married him against her will, who made love to him against her will, who bore him a child against her will, and that child is now buried in this flowery path.
"He was my son, too." She kneels down and then lies on her side by the little grave, "Hi Justin," she says, and rests her hand on the stone as if it were their baby's chubby tummy. He would like to hold that milky hand on the grave, but he is afraid she might push his away…
"I love you." he says, "I love you both." His eyes fill up with tears as he strokes the corvine waves that frame her beautiful face. Her expression doesn't change. In the beginning, it used to be an expression of anger, disgust, but now it is an expression of resignation, like if she knows it is too late to go back. He has never hoped Shaina would start loving him…ever.
Maybe, in some stupid hidden angle of his mind, he had hoped that, because he had been her first, and she had given birth to their baby, she would change her feelings for him…
"FOOLISH!" he thinks, "She'll never love me!"
Milo had always thought that the fact that Justin had died only six months after his birth was almost a relief to Shaina, and afterwards, he had never touched her again…he wouldn't put her through all the pain, the struggle, and the fear: "Will this baby live?" Not unless she starts loving him, he promised to himself.

His mind goes back to two years ago… to the day they were united in marriage... it almost seems like yesterday, but then again, it seems to him like they have been together for a lifetime. Two years…How much have they been through in two years? How much before then?
That day, when the goddess had summoned Shaina, he knew something was going to change forever in her life, and he would have given his own soul to take all of her pain on himself if he could. He had no idea of how strong that pain would be, then, his recklessness told him that his love alone would be enough to fix everything. He had always yearned for her, since they were kids in training, but she had never given him a second glance; falling, instead, for a little boy, younger then her, younger than him, less attractive than him, less intelligent than him, just less… maybe that is what Milo couldn’t accept. He decided that humans don’t need beauty, intelligence, maturity, after all: it’s all a bunch of lies. If humans fall in love, in true love, there won’t be a reason for it, and they’ll love that person with their own soul just for what that person is, without need of additional gadgets: That is when somebody really loves!
The Goddess Athena was half goddess and half human now, and although Milo was devoted to her, and would never dare to say anything profane about her, he knew that her human part cried out to be expressed and recognized. That human part had fallen for the same man Shaina had fallen for: the mighty Seiya: a little brat with no brains and no heart; his courage and recklessness due only to his dumbness in recognizing danger, never to his the sense of duty…
It’s funny how you look at the God’s chosen ones and wonder how is it possible for a God to choose them! Milo had always thought that maybe the Gods do it on purpose, so that if the chosen dies, they have rid the world of another idiot, an idiot whose life has been turned less miserable by the holy task he has been assigned to. That is what he thought once, when he tried to read the Bible and came across the character of David: womanizer, sinner, murderer; and then there was his son, Solomon: GOSH! That was some guy!! He sure did enjoy himself! People at that time would be struck by God’s lightning for the tenth part of what these two guys did, yet, they were allowed to do anything that nobody else was allowed to do: they were the chosen ones!
So this was Seiya: the chosen of Athena, the man Shaina had fallen in love with and had risked her life for more than once. The man that had neglected her love, her spirit of sacrifice, all the wonderful things that could come out of her, and had instead turned to somebody younger than him, with no brains and no skills, except those of a frustrated housewife. Milo had always wondered how a man can want a woman like that, and most of all, how is it possible that a woman like that can be preferred over Shaina!
The day that the Goddess called for Shaina, Milo had been listening when they thought he couldn’t…
He couldn’t know at that time, that the results of his actions would lead to the doom of his soul…and of Shaina’s…he had tried, intended, to do something good, and ruined both their lives, instead.
"Shaina: You know the rules of the warriors of Athena" had said the goddess.
"I do, my Lady but..."
"You know that any man who has seen your face without a mask needs to either be killed or married. You didn’t succeed in any of the two things, so now we have to find a way to save your honor, or you’ll have to leave Sanctuary Island."
"Goddess, I…" and Milo could swear he heard the trembling of an imminent cry in her broken voice. Leaving Sanctuary Island, where she had spent her whole life…and then do what? Go where? This is the way the Goddess treated a woman that had risked her life to save her? Oh! Yeah, because Shaina was THAT woman…the one that could take Seiya’s heart! Gods aren’t perfect either: we are all in the hands of fate, Milo thought.
"Shaina, you are one of my best warriors, and I don’t want you to leave! But the rule of the mask is what has kept some order here in my Sanctuary all along. If I let you get along with that, then all of the female warriors will revolt, and I cannot allow that. Do you understand?"
"I do, my Goddess…I am a warrior, and I am faithful to you, and I know the rules, and I knew what I would go through, and I am ready for it!"
…Liar…
Milo was struck: he could clearly feel the pain in her heart…the shame, the repulsion, the pride of a warrior hit in its deepest… He only wished, later, that he could make her understand that what came next was an act of love…only love…
Shaina just had no idea of what it meant to him seeing her trashed in that street, full of alcohol, hours later…intoxicated by her dreadful fate…and he took her home, and took care of her…
"YOU RAPED HER!!" The voice in his head…the voices in his head…
"I didn’t rape her! SHE raped my soul…she didn’t object when my passion took over when I put her down to bed, drunk to the bones… "Seiya…Seiya…my love…" That is what she said to me, and I offered myself to her impossible dream…to be her delusional toy for as long as she wanted, "I’ll be anyone you want me to be…for you, forever!" I said to her… If she would ask me every night to make love to her just to call out the name she has craved since her younger years, I’d do it! It’s the least that I deserve …"
"YOU RAPED HER!" The voices in his head…
The nightmares haunted him for weeks after that….
Then reality came back…and she woke up that morning, after he had left to fetch her some medications. When he came back to her, he had his head lowered, knowing inside of him that his behavior had been unacceptable, and that she had been unconscious, and he should have known it. But maybe he did know it…but his subconscious told him that maybe she’d love him this way…and there she was, tears in her eyes, staring at the blood stain on the sheets…
"It was Seiya…right? It was, right? Or maybe it’s my period…yeah…it must be my period…it must be…or Seiya…or my period…nothing else…nothing else…"
The expression on her face was a stab in his heart. Her eyes were spirited and bloodsvery warm. He decided, then, that there could be no right punishment for what he did to her; yet after the period of madness and depression, she had accepted her fate. The Goddess had had her way, and when Milo asked her to have Shaina as his bride, the Goddess gave her to him with no hesitation. And that was the day her smile disappeared to come back only for cynical remarks, losing the purity and joy he had known laid under that unexpressive mask. Then she got used to him, somehow, but never loved him…ever...at least that is what he thought, but he absolutely had no proof of that, after all.

The sound of her voice makes him go back to reality…
"Milo…" The way she calls his name…it comes out of her lips so sweet… "It makes it sound like she is calling an angel, while I am a devil," he thinks.
"Yes, love?" he says smiling at her from the depth of his undying love,
"Do you think he fears the darkness?" Tears glimmer at the sides of her eyes, "No! Because he doesn't live in Darkness…he is in a world of light." He almost shouts, and it's more a hope than a certainty.
He calms down, taking a deep breath. "Did you love him?" he says holding her hand now; she hasn't pushed it away. Shaina’s eyes get brighter, animated from the power of her truth:" Every single moment I knew he was there…always…every single moment of my life now that he is not here anymore…" She shifts up a little and kisses his picture, and the grave greets her tears as she places her forehead on the image and sobs. Only then Milo realizes she has been the one to plant the flowers around the tomb.
He also shifts and hugs her from behind, even though he knows she might push him away. She doesn't, though. She actually holds his arms as they encircle her. He knows he shouldn't, but can't help asking her, "Did you love him even if he was my son?"
He closes his eyes, bracing himself for one of her mean remarks, but she doesn't do anything of the sort. Instead she says, "I loved his blue eyes, just like yours, and the black curls, and the expression of his face…He looked exactly like you…". And she smiles and caresses his arms…
He would love to add, "My love, why do you say this? Is it because in some remote space of your heart you are starting to feel something for me? Can you feel my love and love me back?" He would…but he doesn’t…he is scared…how could she ever feel anything for him? Him, her violator, the one who stole her youth, the one who did with her as he pleased knowing her heart didn't belong to him…
She turns to him and looks in his eyes behind the tears of her own, and then kisses him sweetly… "But you don't love me, my love…you don't…And I don't want to wonder why you are kissing me, and I don't want to know why you loved our son; a son that you didn't want. I don't want to risk deluding myself and increase my suffering. Suffering has been designated for me…it's my destiny. I'll never have your love, but I will keep giving you my undying one, and you keep deluding me, if you want, but don't stop being by my side, don't stop coming to see our son's grave, our only bond, our real bond, that broke too early, probably as a metaphor of our mendacious marriage…."
He has always had these poetic thoughts, these daytime dreams of him talking to her and explain himself, his love, but never managed to. Her eyes were striking, her face icy, and he never bothered her, in respect of her pain: first the one of loosing herself, then the one of loosing her son. But today she is different…quieter, sweeter, yet he can’t talk…all he can do is yearn, and pine, and dream of telling her his love…

*****************************************************
And there is the Goddess. Standing on the highest balcony of the highest tower of her palace on the highest hill, as if she were a princess in a fairy tale waiting for her prince to save her. She was looking down at the two figures in the graveyard…Ah, Goddess: will you ever forgive yourself? Will you ever feel perdon for what you did to your faithful? Was it a whim? Was it jealousy? She doesn’t know…she is a Goddess, but she is human, humans don’t have all the answers, and maybe gods don’t either.
People have a hard time dealing with human gods: they are supposed to be perfect and flawless, and there is no excuse: look at that poor Jesus of the Christians, prayed, worshipped, cursed, vituperated, loved and hated, supposed to give, but never thanked for what he has given…
And now there stands Athena, the goddess of Wisdom, come to this earth to defeat evil, to save humankind, to be incarnated in that uncomfortable human body…uncomfortable and sensual…she had never known that a Goddess could actually ‘feel’. She had never known that a human heart can really beat differently…she didn’t know that a human heart actually beats!
Like a child, she brings her hand to her chest, and she realizes she has a heart, and she realizes her heart beats! And she would love to scream to the world, "I HAVE A HEART!!! AND IT BEATS!!" She’ll never stop surprising herself of how cold the snow is, and how white, and how warm is the water of the Aegean, and how tasty are its fruits, and how smooth is the skin of a dolphin, and how nice a flower smells, and her human part enjoys all this and rejoices in it. No, maybe her human body is not so uncomfortable, after all.
But then she also grows frightened by knowing that a heart can also beat for pain, and her eyes go back to the two figures in the graveyard, laying side by side, with their hands on their son’s grave, and she wonders if she will ever have to go through the pain as well... She won't want it, but it will happen, because being human means to rejoice and to suffer and to suffer and rejoice when the pain goes away…and maybe then her body will be uncomfortable…
But what if pain does not go away?
"Milo…Shaina… my warriors, my faithful…I see you and watch every move of yours, and I hurt…Oh! Shaina! I wish you’d understand my action. I wish you wouldn’t feel the weight of serving me as a rock on your heart, but you do…I have tried to help you, but you didn’t understand…Look behind the wall before your eyes, hear the cry of your goddess…know that I love you and I would have never done something to spite you…Why don’t humans understand? They see us gods as evil…we love you! But there are reasons behind our actions that you don’t understand…you can’t…and it hurts. A god can hurt too…I just realized it…
What is the good coming from Seiya? Why would your intelligence, beauty, education had to go to waste for a kid who hasn’t completed his cycle in life and will not in this life at least…You know what would have happened? You would have gotten tired of him… and then what?
Humans are taken by their passions and are unable to see beyond them. It’s difficult…it’s easy for you to blame me for Seiya not loving you in return…it’s better than accepting that he is just a kid incapable of fully understanding a deep feeling…
Come to me, Shaina…my arms are open and I am here to comfort you and guide you…don’t feel alone… I am your goddess…I am with you; I want your good, why did you leave my way? I see you practicing the cult, but I know your heart doesn’t feel. Come to me, child…your goddess is your mother, not an enemy.
Your goddess won’t hurt you, only do good to you, but that good you twist it into evil,, and then your goddess is evil…I wish you’d understand…it’s so difficult to deal with humans…but I love them…I can’t help it."
Athena cries her silent chant to her pain-struck warriors, but they can’t hear…it’s difficult to hear when the pain closes your senses; maybe this is what Gods can’t understand…

And there lays Shaina…one hand on the cold grave, another caressing her husband’s arm, circling her. He is so warm. Sometimes, at night, when she is cold, she will snuggle by his side when he is asleep, and in his sleep, he will hold her in his strong arms and he’ll hum her a song and kiss her head. She would enjoy those moments forever, if only the thought of her son buried six feet underground with nobody to hum him a song wouldn’t be haunting her.
In the past, she’d come here and lay just like that, holding the grave like if it were her baby, and falling asleep over it, and in her sleep, she’d dream of holding Justin asleep in her bed, but then a blow of wind would wake her up to her horrid reality. In those moments, her anger would come up like a tidal wave, and she would be possessed by fury and would want to just extirpate the stone off the ground and dig him out with her own hands…
The Aegean, which she could see from the graveyard didn’t look the same, then. The colors were not the same: the green of its depths was still emerald, but a little darker; the blue of its far ends, those who melt with the sky in the horizon was still this deep steel, but this time its deepness was arrogant, annoying, evoking of a deepness that had been dug in her heart.
The views of her land weren’t the same either, nor it was its beautiful sun. Her soul didn’t want to be illuminated; she didn’t want the sun to shine on her if it could not shine on her baby. Sometimes she’d walk to the Acropolis, and from a far distance she could see tourists taking pictures, hear laughing, noise of cans of soda tema de apertura with their cheerful swoosh. She had forgotten how to laugh, then …
Those stones were no more the ancient Parthenon to her, but just a huge and old pile of rocks. They didn’t have the same look as when she came here to nurse Justin. At that time, it was their temple: the temple of their relationship of mother and son. Everything seemed great then. Everything seemed different.
Her motherhood was a blessing in the misery of her life. Her son was beautiful, and it seemed like the whole world was better when he was there. She used to seat there on the stairs of the ancient temple and offer him her breast.
After he had had enough, she would turn him around and place him on her lap so as to have him face the sea and enjoy the beauty of the view as well as she did. He would stay there humming and biting his little hands, and she would tell him stories about the great happenings of the past in the land he was born in and he would grow up in, and about the great warrior he would be someday…
His father would join them, sometimes, and she would hand him the baby, whishing he could understand what she meant by doing that. She wouldn’t talk…She didn’t know how to, maybe she was expecting Justin to do it for her, with a smile, the attempt of pronouncing a word, which would start a cheerful conversation between the two parents. At that point, they would forget how they got married, or rather, she would, and everything could have an appearance of normality, then, and all thanks to Justin.
The breezy air caresses her hair and sings a sad song…all of these emotions were and are all too incompatible with the joy that most of the time goes around in this land. Sometimes she’ll walk down to the town and will see people squeezing in the little street to horde a supposed unique piece of jewelry or an ancient vase skillfully inlaid by some clever villager so as to look really fresh out of an ancient tomb. The storekeepers pretend they don’t understand English so as to better fool the foreign tourists.
The grocer that supplies the Sanctuary area community knows both Milo and Shaina: he usually used to ship the goods over to them but she would come here anyway with Justin in the baby sling to buy his diapers, just to get out. It was only an excuse to escape for a walk with him only. Sometimes, now, the grocer will look at her and wipe his eyes, and maybe will stop cheating the poor tourists in a sign of respect to her mourning…
Justin was the only thing that managed to make her smile, want to be a better person…the only thing that made her feel a complete woman, the only thing that made her feel a part of a family. He was the only way for Milo and her to communicate; sometimes…he was her only way of communicating with him, her only way to justify her smiling to him, wanting to make love to him, being his real wife…
Justin had made her change. And after his death, she felt she was back where she was before, and this place, then, this sea, these streets, people laughing, the colors of the summer, meant nothing without having to show him around, without waking up in the morning and see his father holding him asleep on his chest in a protective way. The alleys of the old town did not hide treasures to discover with him anymore…only gloom…the buildings stood against the sky and seemed to tighten up to suffocate her.
She thought that nothing would ever soothe her pain, but then she had to learn, somehow, that pain does not go away, but also that pain doesn’t have to be destructive all the time. It actually can transform, it also make us better people, sometimes…
When she was pregnant, one day, she went for a walk on the shore. There was Arethi, an old woman whose fisherman husband had died at sea. Arethi was sort of a psychic, and Shaina had known her since she was little. The woman just looked at her womb that was starting to swell, and what she said after, she’ll never forget: "Child, this son isn’t coming for you to keep him." Shaina wondered if the woman was insinuating that she’d give him away to somebody else who actually craved to be a mother, but that is not what Arethi meant, "This son is just coming to redeem you and your husband. His soul is beyond this world. He’ll just teach you a lesson, and then he’ll leave you…"
At that time, she barely paid attention to those words, and she thought that maybe the woman was talking about her son leaving her as a grown man, but never this… After Justin died, she had thought again about Arethi’s words, and her pain told her that she was a liar, that nobody can foresee a damned thing! They must have been lies! What could her son teach her as a little baby whose heart just stopped working one winter day with no apparent reason?
She had hated everybody, everything, then. She had totally given up any social contact for a long time, but for some reason, Milo had been the only one she couldn’t really hate. She loathed herself for that. After all, if he hadn’t abused her, she wouldn’t have gotten pregnant, and all this would have been only a bad dream. Sometimes, though, she thought that if she had never had Justin, she wouldn’t have gotten to hold him, to watch his beautiful face, to rejoice in milking him, to feel that immense love, and she just couldn’t imagine her life without having had him, if only for those six months. Actually more than that: how about her pregnancy? He was there, after all, and she’d talk to him. He was the only one to know of her true feelings…

Whenever Milo approached her, the baby would move in her womb, making her shudder. She had discovered then how beautiful it was to make love…it wasn’t as she had always thought sex to be. It was something more…immense…beautiful…complete, but would she have found that out without Justin pushing her from her visceral?

"Are you sleeping?" She asks him. "No…" he answers kissing her hair. The sun is setting. How long have they been here? The wind is starting to turn rather chilly, now. "Are you sleeping?" he asks,
"No…are you?"
"How can I be asleep if I am talking?" they both laugh,
"Well…you do talk in your sleep sometimes…"
"And what do I say?"
"Hhhm..I am not telling you…"
"Hmm…why am I worried?" he teases her,
"Ah! Ah!"
Just like the old times, when they were laying in bed with Justin asleep… Shaina notices, for the first time, that they had never been in the graveyard together…never in two years. They wouldn’t even tell each other when they’d go. Just by chance they had come here at the same time today, for the first time, and yet, they found out that they still do have something to talk about, that they can still lay together and talk, even now that Justin isn’t there anymore…Even from his grave, he has managed to reunite them again, just like the old times.
Shaina has just realized it, this was the lesson: this was the lesson that Justin would teach her, this was his mission on this earth: to teach her to talk, to tolerate, to solve problems by tema de apertura up with confidence towards the people who love her.
In that moment, laying there, she realizes that Milo had always known, always waited for her to understand and for the first time she realizes how wonderful this man was, this man that had repaired her shame, not inflicted it to her; this man that had loved her and still loves her, this man that would do anything for her, without expecting anything back. This is real love! What had she thought real love is? Running after somebody that doesn’t want you and doesn’t deserve you?
It has taken years to understand, it has taken a dead son, and it has taken a lot of pain, but the mistakes she has done she cannot erase. Instead, she realizes that maybe she could work at not making mistakes anymore, and as she turns to look at the usual shade of sadness in her husbands eyes, Shaina realizes that it’s time for that shade to fade away, and it’s time that she makes her son’s short life worth what it was. Now she knows what Arethi meant that day on the beach, now she knows what Justin’s mission was, and it’s time for Milo to know as well, it’s time for him, too, to come out of the pain and understand…she’ll have to help him, and she’ll do it, because Justin deserves it! Wherever he might be now, in Heaven, reincarnated in another body, or in a butterfly, he deserves his efforts to be made worthwhile…
"Shall we go home?" She says to him, now smiling, as she had never done before. Milo looks at her quite puzzled, "You mean, together?" "Sure." A veil of hope appears in his eyes, and then an incredulous smile. She thinks she had never seen anything so tender before, and kisses him again, holding him tight. They get up; kiss the baby’s picture again, " adios son, mommy and daddy will be back soon!" she says.
Milo had always known, felt, what Shaina had just understood. He just had lost hopes that she would ever feel it. But today a new light has been lit up and maybe things will work out now, maybe they can even be happy, at least do their best to be. And with the new resolution written in their hearts like their son’s name engraved in that stone, they walk away, and on the way out, after turning to look down at the grave one more time, their hands brush each other by mistake, and then brush again, and then, always by chance, they intertwine, and then finally, they hold each other…

This is what it means to be whole, adults, mature: knowing and recognizing when somebody hurts us, and deciding not to see that person anymore, recognizing when a situation is bad for us, and deciding not to feel it anymore, realizing what is good for us, recognizing who loves us, and accepting the good with arms wide open, because if anyone really loves us, truly loves us, and would do anything for us, there is no reason for us to let it go, there is no reason to give up love, to run after a senseless dream, to run after a mendacious happiness. Happiness is not something abstract that rains from Heaven, happiness is seeing and recognizing the good things around us and enjoy them till our last breath. There is no perfect life, no perfect marriage, no perfect person, and no perfect situation. There are only perfect intentions, and if we fight for those intentions to become facts, then we will create perfection.
A baby had come to this earth to teach this lesson to two warriors that had always thought they were born to fight and die for their goddess, a baby had left this earth craving for them to understand. The way is still long, but the perfect intentions are there. The flowers in the graveyard are closing themselves to the night, except for those on Justin’s grave. There is no more night for them, no darkness anymore. His job is done, now he can rest.



The humming song
(Gravestone’s side story, dialogue assignment))



"Please open the door."
"Why?"
"…Need some air".
"Like this?"
"Yeah…come back here."
"You never ask me to come back."
"So?"
"Nothing…"
"..hhmm…"
"Are you cuddly tonight?"
"Shut up!"
"Ah! Ah!"
"What is so funny?"
"You are: one minute you are grouchy and the next you snuggle against me like a little girl."
"I can leave you right now if you want me to!"
"NO!!! Stay here…we don’t get to stay like this often, do we?"
"You are the one who doesn’t come back at night."
"Because you don’t want me to."

"Who said I don’t want you to?"
"When I asked you last time you said you didn’t care."
"Because you make me mad all the time."
"I swear to God I don’t mean to"
"I know. It’s me…I have always been a witch, after all…"
"No you haven’t!"
"Yes I have!"
"Then you are the loveliest witch I have ever known."
"Have you known a lot of them?"
"What? Witches?"
"Women!"
"Well, you know…it’s said that there are more women than men on earth, so it’s a little difficult not to know many women…"
"You know what I mean!"
"Why does it matter? I thought you prayed for me to stay away from our bed."
"It doesn’t mean that I would allow you to sleep with other women! If I find it out I’ll kill you!"
"Uh-Uh! So fiery!"
"I want you to discharge all of your girl servants"
"Ah! Ah! So bad?"
"I want you to hire older maids…. much older…I see those brats drooling whenever you pass by them…I don’t want them in my house!"
"Whatever my lady desires. Any other wish?"
"And stop teasing me…"
"Are you asleep?"
"No…"
"He is moving…"
"He always does when he hears your voice…or feels your hands…"
"Do you like that?"
"…Yes…"
"I hope he looks like you…"
"I want him to look like you, instead…"
"AH! AH! I thought you didn’t want another face like mine around you!"
"I do…because at least you can laugh…not like me…"
"You were able to laugh, once…before I came into your life…"
"It’s not before YOU came into my life…it’s before I came to terms with my life."
"I’d do anything to make you laugh again…"
"I know…"
"I’d do anything to make you happy…whatever you want!"
"Will you hum me that song again? The one about the girl who promised her life to the sea and her heart to the wind to have her love back and was turned into a figurehead in the end?"
"Of course I will…"
"Will you hum it in my ear so that Justin can hear it?"
"Sure! I hope he’ll find a woman that would do that for him, someday…when he’ll be a grown man…"
"Hold us tighter…"
"Like this?"
"Yeah…hhhm…"
"Sleep, my loves…I’ll sing for you until you are asleep…"
"Milo?"
"Yes?"
"Thank you…"
"For what?"
"For loving me despite everything…"
"Everything is nothing…nothing at all…"
"Everything is a lot…"
"You always want the last saying, don’t you?"
"You know me."
"Yes! And I thank God every day for it…"
"…"

Editado por megasaint, 13 julio 2004 - 08:45 .


#2 sofia

sofia

    VERDADERA defensora/fan de megaman/rockman!!!


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Publicado 21 julio 2004 - 08:14

disculpen si este fic esta en ingles pero es demasiado largo para traducirlo....

#3 Guest_TheCerebralAssassin_*

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Publicado 28 julio 2004 - 15:30

Hey, people speak english here, right on. Can't read/speak much spanish. Only trying to get mensajes to get access to the St Seiya manga.


P.S.: Nice story.

#4 sofia

sofia

    VERDADERA defensora/fan de megaman/rockman!!!


  • 1,514 mensajes
Pais:
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Publicado 01 agosto 2004 - 09:12

nope, people don't speak english here but i still mensaje this fan fic to see the member's reaction and also to see if they will like it.
but it seem that or they don't know english or they just don't want to pay atetion to this wondefull story.

so, what i'm goin to do is to send this fic in private messages to several members i know and that read and speak english, and i will also send this fan fic in the english version of this forum.

so the english speakers of there can read it and tell their opinions about it.

anyway, thanks a lot for reading this story and mensaje for it.
chereti andio!!!




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