Scarred Roses and Blood Filled Chocolates

The Beginning of My Destruction-

On the outside you can say you hate someone, despise, detest the fibers of their very being. You present to the world this impenetrable façade of loathing, and the world believes your emotions are genuine and not just a front you show them.

Then, despite your apparent hate for one another, they ask you to put aside this passion and join hands. They beg you to forget and forgive, to pass up everything previously you. And so, to save humanity, you push roughly past all preconceived notions and become allies.

Allies, strange word. Two enemies filled to bursting with faux hate, merging together in an alliance, an agreement, to stand aloft in the face of impossible odds, never letting the mask of disgust falter.

They didn't ask you to be their saviors because you were brave and good, or because it would be symbolic. They pleaded with you out of fear and cowardice. A need to be protected by those with the strongest gift, a power unequaled by any.

So you cave in to their ceaseless cries, and you stretch out trembling fingers to your worst enemy, and your unbridled forces flow together in a rush of pain, but you don't let go because if you do, you know that there will be no tomorrow.

There you stand, two people among many, stone expressions of sheer determination, eyes unblinking, feet steady on the hallowed ground, breath coming in jagged gasps, chanting through crippled lips.

You watch them fight their final duel. Creating a human barrier to keep this last battle away from the world. Your eyes, metallic and brown alike, follow the war paths of a monster and boy battling on the brink of madness.

Spells cast, light flashes.

Bones crack, dust is stirred.

A prophecy fulfilled.

Your barrier of flesh, blood, and bone collapses, knees folding together, knuckles bloody, smiles vague.

Through the mist a figure looms, cradling an arm, grasping one slender piece of wood, and one splintered wand.

Before the darkness comes you feel unfamiliar arms clutch you, hoisting you from the ground, a now barren wasteland.

And when your eyelids flutter open days later, all you can think of is the triumph, the hope you felt, created, painfully gained. Out of the fog a crisp clear face swims to mind. Out of the despair and hate he holds your hand in his own, and then catches you when you fall.

You don't know how to feel, he saved you, and you certainly don't hate or mistrust him. He wasn't evil. Not like he used to be. He was of the light, now, and then didn't matter, not now.

But yet was it correct to feel this indebted to a man so distant and removed from man kind. To feel so closely tied to a person who kept all of his emotion hidden away from the world, for a man who was at one time considered no better than spawn. And yet he had redeemed himself, in your eyes, though not necessarily in the eyes of others.

When the door creaks open, and your friends come to wish you well, you put him out of your mind, blackening his picture you know that you will have to one day fess up to these brief moments of misconception.

He is out of your thoughts, for now.

For now....