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| <<<>>> |
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Banek's Revival |
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| Created by Decius at
| [+ favourites]
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As he felt the end coming near, Banek laid silently on his cot reminiscing about moments in his life. He had much time to spend doing this, for he could no longer walk let alone worry about the present or the future. He spent days at a time, simply thinking, experiencing grand emotions in complete silence for it hurt to speak or even smile. It was like a long dream.
Perhaps it was his lack of interaction with the outside world that made his dreams more lucid. Whatever the case, his memories appeared as real to him in those last moments as they did when he first experienced them. He would travel the vast expanse of his life and re-visit pain, pleasure, triumph, even the sharpness of betrayal.
It was at night when he truly ceased to exist in the realm of reality. The faint sounds of the world dissolved into nothing at night, and he could forget entirely his existence. It was a feeling of full awareness, but of an event long passed, so clear to him. There was no now. Only then.
Banek. He used to think to himself, almost every day. His name. His identity. He would quite often find himself staring at his reflection. Not in awe, but in confusion. With wonder. What was Banek? Was he a strong person, or a weak person? The more he stared into himself, the more he wanted to pick one side, but always fell short of a decision. This was because Banek was Banek, and the nature of Banek meant surviving the confusion to find the right answer, rather than risk the possibility of being wrong now. It was to suffer, to be Banek.
Once, he recalled, feeling unloved as he stared at himself. He stared at his face, and almost immediately felt waves of compassion fly through the ether at the persona that was woefully looking back at him. He wanted to love him, to tend to him, to protect him, but felt an inability. He felt abused by she that was closest to him. He felt betrayed, for she was unwilling to protect Banek. And he knew he deserved such protection.
This feeling did not seem alien to him. He had moments in the past when weakness was consuming him, and there was no one present to aid in his recovery. Those that attempted were quite obviously not fully devoted for they did nothing that worked. During those times, he walked about as if he was a part of the undead, and felt less alive inside than his composure indicated.
But this time was different. He stared at the saddened Banek and felt rage. He felt rage at she that was completely incapable of loving him. It was her selfish nature, her self-involved nature that permitted him to feel this way, as he did at that moment. Even now, when he needed her most, she was nowhere to be seen. Gallivanting about the cosmos with shallow people. How could he care about such a shallow person? How could he have even permitted himself to expect anything from her if she obviously cared so little about him?
He thought of her smiles. Her treacherous smiles that fulfilled nothing. He realized that the moments of levity that he had felt with her were catalyzed by her own desires. That he had, in fact, begun to smile only when she smiled, and was saddened when she herself was saddened. Then why was it, at this moment, when he was filled with sadness, that she felt nothing? This realized inequality angered him even further. Why was she permitted to smile at this very moment if he wasn't?
The elderly Banek sighed. He remembered such thoughts, and was saddened by empathizing with such moments. Moments that were piercingly painful, when betrayal filled his lungs and there was no escape. So long ago, he thought.
Then he thought about the abstract notion of fate. If she did care about him, if she did in fact in any way hold an unspoken connection to him, then at this very moment of crucial desire and pain, she would feel his need and come to him. But she did not. There was no concerned phone call, there was no knock on the door. He was greeted with silence, and an angry fire within him that almost brought him to tears.
He knelt down and began to pray. Not for pleasure or pain but simply for clarity. He clenched his eyes tighter, as if shutting out all the light surrounding him would bring him closer to an answer. But he did not even know what he was asking. He simply wanted to resolve this pain within him in the most efficient way possible. She entered his mind again, and he exploded.
What he felt then was not hatred, but rather distaste. He thought of her and felt a sincere distaste towards her. This simple apathy matched with a touch of resentment suddenly resolved his heart. He opened his eyes suddenly and paused for a moment to ascertain that the pain was gone. And it was.
Banek slowly got to his feet and examined that moment. He felt peaceful. He looked about him to re-capture reality as his emotions bounced off matter and back to him. He felt no pain.
He wiped his eyes and washed his face, taking a deep pain-soaked breath in, and a peaceful breath out. He felt better, as if he had cleansed his life of a weight that was hanging around his neck. He smiled wistfully.
That was that, he thought.
At dinner, they sat in irregular silence at a table in a restaurant. It was apparent Banek was forcefully distracted and she simply stared at him. Each time his eye caught hers he looked down, or away, or to the side. They ate uncomfortably and left the restaurant.
As they left the restaurant and walked together in silence they passed a park. It was then that she stopped.
The elderly Banek smiled to himself, feeling teary eyed.
He walked a bit further and eventually stopped, turning to face her, many feet away.
She stared at him, her hands clasped together in front of her body, her arms straight down. She looked like an innocent school-girl, he thought to himself. Banek walked to her slowly and looked at her angrily.
"What?"
Her eyes became watery and she looked away as she always did, saying nothing. He felt his heart flutter. He felt guilty, then incredibly angry. She was making him feel guilty for feeling pain. This is how it always worked, he thought. This was how she manipulated him.
"What did you stop for?"
She still looked to the side and shrugged, wiping her tears.
He stared at her like stone, but she said nothing. He knew she would say nothing, for she had nothing to say. Banek swallowed. His own eyes began to water. He looked down and felt a tear run down his cheek. He pushed his lips together and looked to the opposite side she did.
After a few moments of silence, she walked up to him and took his face in her hands and pointed their eyes to each other. The moment he looked at her he began crying. She stared at him, her eyebrows arched with compassion, her tender warm hands on his cheeks.
Banek looked down as tears rolled down his cheek. Something came over him, like a wave, and jolted everything he had out of him. He immediately fell to his knees and hugged her waist, burying his head in her stomach.
"Why won't you love me?" he weakly asked her.
"I adore you." she immediately whispered.
The elderly Banek clenched his eyes half-way shut and took a deep and sudden breath in just as he did that moment long ago.
"I know..." he screamed, expelling all the air out of his lungs into her maternal stomach.
The elderly Banek felt tears ooze out of his old eyes just as they did his young ones. His wrinkled skin created canals around his eyes, leading the tears directly to the pillow his head rested on. He was overwhelmed and began to repeat the words "I'm sorry..." over and over just as he did as a young man. He could move no part of his body, yet he was filled with such an overwhelming need to clench his muscles and expel energy. He remembered holding her so very tightly.
She stared down at him and ran her hands through his hair lovingly, caressing him. He felt her tear drop unto his head. The moment he felt it he sprung to his feet, wiping her face, kissing her wet streaks, gently holding her face in his hands. In his bed, he tried to get up, tried to lift his arm, trying to reach she that was standing right besides the bed with him in those last moments. She bent over the bed to reach him and rested her face by his elderly one, just as they were together that night. He sighed and held her to him. His elderly chords whispered into the silence of his room, just as his young ones had that very night.
"You are my angel, Maya."
Her eyebrows arched compassionately again as she closed her eyes.
"I know." she whispered back. |
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| Created by Decius at
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