No More Heroes -Ch.1: In The Desert-

NO MORE HEROES 1

:Chapter One:2

In The Desert 3

Sometimes I just like to watch the world fall apart, this day included. The wind tears at me, attempting to dominate over me. A feeble attempt. Even from afar, the strength in the gust is obvious and with every spin, it pulls me in tightly. It eats the landscape in its presence, leaving it as a blank canvas for all the world to paint with its liking. As if some sort of magic eraser. Truly a gift from the Heavens. I wish I had that power. I would take the world in my hands and erase every imperfection. Imagine that...perfection from the hand of a 16 girl from Texas, incredible isn’t it? 4

But, no, that is not my gift for it belongs to this funnel of wind and rubble. I wonder too, what provokes this beast into such a swirl of fury currently reddened by our trademark sand. Did someone angry the God of winds, forcing him to send sand devils to reclaim the land. It all seems so plausible, I chuckle to myself, losing myself in story telling. I imagine what the Wind God would look like, he would be tall and thin as malnutrition skeletons. Yet his eyes deep with peace and understanding. Maybe a scraggly beard, yes, one as white as snow. The more my thoughts venture, the more questions arise. How was the enemy of this wind God? A human man, cursed with vanity and a broad chest named Wolf. I imagine him too, he would be thick with muscles and empty of a soul. He would wear the armor of a gladiator, more skin exposed then protect. No Helmet to calm his mane, which from my mind he cares for very deeply. He would believe in valor and slaying dragons. The story explodes before my eyes and I see them in combat, Wolf slicing through the wind to no avail.5

He tires slowly, his sword swinging with less intensity each time. The Wind God, Breeze, cackles and it fills the entire domain of the Earth. Wolf’s entertainment in the events grows to bitterness, his lip drawn back into his teeth, bitten. His thick blade pressed into the Earth, buried into a first layer of Mother Earth’s skin. Breeze is highly entertained by this mortal man in his thinking of dominance over the God. He calms the winds with his fragile hands, bringing them to a summer breeze. No words are spoken, yet Wolf knows himself beaten and he lifts his sword slowly in grimace. The battle stops for now, Breeze the owner of another round. How disappointed Wolf must be, unable to achieve a cloak of winds. 6

“What are you doing?” His voice comes through my thoughts, a distant memory, a mirage in the middle of the desert caused by dehydration. “Kido?” His hand attempts to brace my shoulder, only to dissipate into the air. A broken memory. “Are you okay?” Again, his voice is clear in my mind and even Wolf seems to be distressed by my insanity. 7

“I’m...okay.” I’m not bothered my lie, after all it is only a mirage. I can pretty much guarantee that I won’t be forsaken for such and if I am, well God is quite cruel. I open my eyes to his face, soft in a smile with his eyes showing the wear of years of living. “Da-“ I stop myself, knowing what tricks ones mind plays when you are desperate. I close my eyes in the hopes that upon my return, this pathetic excuse for a dream will be just a lingering memory. Yet, as I open my eyes, he remains there. The happy grin planted on straight, just the way I remember. I feel the irresistible urge to touch him, feel him one more time. See if his skin is still soft, to see if his stubble is still the prickly kind. 8

“Nice day isn’t it?” He use to say that when I was upset, trying to lift me up with mother nature which, as unusual as it is, always would. Perhaps it had more to do with the fact that it was him trying more than nature forcing a smile to my lips. “Isn’t it?” He asks again, turning to me, the smile faded a bit. Dropped by the fact of this irregular rejection. 9

“Yeah, it is.” I turn away, the memories bring him, stingingly, closer to reality with every second. “It would be nice if it wasn’t so hot.” I say, smiling as I return my feelings to their cages were they will remain. I remember the last time we spent time like this, it was hot too. Unbearably hot and he was drawing cactus, going through a phrase of interest in prickly plants; I believe. He went through phases like that, drawing, photography, sculpture and he seemed so gifted in them all. 10

But today is not that last day I spent with him. Today, there are foxes; which he would have loved. The sun is higher and hotter, the sun is a faded blue. Without him, my world is pastel. The cactus he lovingly named, “Captain Silver”, has died and is just a crumbled remain, eaten away by some desert creature.11

“My cactus.” He turns to it slowly, only understand the lose once I had thought it. “Captain Silver, you died.” and I think, hoping only memories and not thoughts escape, he isn’t the only one. He kneels by it, searching the site for some evidence of foul play. I watch him care over it, caressing it with his rough hands, fingers being pricked every once in a while. Blood dripping but never find a home in the Earth. 12

“Dad, you’re hurting yourself.” I call, ruffled by the sight even of fake blood. “Stop...” Still, he plays with the needles. The points pricking him more so until his hands are but a red mess. “See what you’ve done?” It feels strange to punish my own father and it feels even stranger as he looks up to me with pathetic eyes. Eyes that did not belong to him. My father never carried the stride of a child. My father who was always above me, holding my hand. My father with scars and light etching from the smiles and the hardship. It was painful to see him degenerate into a childish state.13

“Ow...” He groans softly, taking the first notices of his hands, painted red. Breeze and Wolf watch me carefully, disturbed by my conversations with the nothings. I can imagine myself now, worrying over the wind and talking to the cloud that presented themselves in an image of my father. 14

“Dad...” Reality comes between us again and he fades away, turning to star dust before my eyes. The sparkles catch wind and disappear into the eternities of the wind. It is night fall now, the moon set in the Sun’s place. Wolf and Breeze watch me again, concerned with my relapse. I look to the cactus, still blood-free. How sad...that my dreams have invaded my life and turned against me once again.