Turn the Page

The productive evening meeting had just concluded, leaving me to collect my thoughts within the public sanctuary of the outdoor cafe. The crowd that previously existed swelling in anticipation of the Magistrates publicized announcement. It was really no surprise, that the majority of spectators consisted of the low caste. In light of everything that has transpired it is logical that the majority of citizens live and breath awaiting not only reassurances but answers to the growing concerns of the salt shortage and ludicrous tax increase. All eyes turned towards him, whispered words seemed to hush as he emerged upon the stone platform. I remember thinking his face look thinner than the last time I had seen him, normally sharp eyes tired, yet his voice remained passionately eloquent as he offered the crowd the reassurances they desperately sought, that is until it was violently silenced.

My hands are dry and cracked. I look down at them now and they resemble those of a woman much older than myself. I don't know why I thought I could change the outcome of what has transpired by attempting to wash away the dried crimson blood stains. His blood. So much blood. I was unsuccessful in both endeavors.

The initial burst of adrenaline that coursed thru as I broke thru the crowd running towards him his lifeless body, remains, without a clear outlet beyond these words. I find these words as disorienting as my emotions. I should not be affected to this degree. As I stood there above him the sound of footsteps behind me, reminding me I had no place there. Yet I would not be denied confirmation. I still barely recall the pull of Carl's arm or the sound of my insistent voice as I found myself at the clinic. The crowd surrounding me provided a sense of an anonymous warmth until I pulled from them, entering his room. I don't think he even noticed me, which in truth is a blessing, for yet again I found myself in a place I did not belong.
I did not stay long.
Once we departed the clinic, I managed to not only convince myself but Carl as well that my concern was justified.
"It stands to reason that I would be concerned. He was after all elected to serve my best interest."

The lies we tell ourselves are perhaps much more dangerous than those we tell others.
I continue to stare out the window above my bakery, the dull moons slowly vanishing replaced by the dawning of another day. Tired vacant streets awakening, as the emotional tension continues to spill out across these pages, tears borne of what can only be described as guilty regret.
The assassin sharp arrow, while intended for another target has in the process weakened me, draining me of reason, the stabbing pain of vulnerably burns hot and bright within my soul. The guilt I feel rapidly gains ground spreading thru me like some sort of disease.
The truths that lay within me feel naked and exposed, raw and open to judgement and criticism.
The only difference between myself and the unseen assassin was the choice in weapons. I should have told him the truth concerning my involvement, sparing the pain inflicted upon him.
I am now torn between wanting to protect him and wanting to protect myself.
I have been foolish in permitting him entrance behind the cold blockade that I have spent en'vars constructing.
I should not be affected like this. I should not care this much.
The tears I shed are without logic they flow only because I am helpless to deny them.

Tonight , I should be joyous over the sparing of his life, instead I find myself mourning the loss of unaffordable indulgences.
Tomorrow is another day, I shall embrace it unencumbered by those things that attempt to destroy me. I shall take what happened and draw the strength of self preservation that I need to successfully conquer these emotions that attempt to destroy me.



The page turned, this chapter closed.