Sacrifice

“Mrs. Blackwood?”

                I nodded and swallowed at Mrs. Wilma, my doctor.

                “Would you please follow me?” She said to me.

                I instantly rose and walked behind her, clutching my purse to my stomach, digging my nails into the leather strap.

                She directed me to a room and I sat down in one of the chairs so that I faced her when she sat down. She sighed and placed her clipboard on the counter next to her. She faced me openly and I knew it was bad.

                I knew that I didn’t want to hear what she had to say.

                But I stayed rooted to my chair, clinging to my purse for dear life.

                She opened her mouth to speak and I suddenly burst of in tears, crying for no good reason other than that I knew what was coming.

                She didn’t look surprised that I had this reaction, but I felt obliged to explain why this was so terrible.

                “You-you see… my husband, soon to be ex-husband… he um… he cheated on me.” My voice got high pitched at the end and I wasn’t sure if she understood me, but she nodded.

                “I’m very sorry, sweetie. I imagine it wasn’t the easiest thing, being so young,” she glanced down at her clipboard, “only twenty-three? My goodness.” Her voice dropped down an octave, “It sounds to me like this ex of yours doesn’t have much common sense, honey. In my opinion, he needs a swift kick to the balls.”

                I choked out a laugh through my tears and wiped my eyes, “Thanks.”

                She nodded and asked if she could continue. I said that she could.

                “The urine sample that you gave us indicated that you do not have any STDs or any disease what-so-ever.”

                My eyebrows drew together, “But I thought that’s what you were going to tell me. You had that look on your face, like you were about to drop a bomb on my…” My voice trailed off as I realized that she still had that look. She wasn’t done talking.

                “Mrs. Blackwood, you’re pregnant.”

                My head swam and my grip on my purse went slack as black dots danced before my eyes.

                “W-what?” I stuttered.

                “You’re three months along, sweetie.”

                I glanced down at my belly and rubbed my hand over it, “That’s impossible.”

                But of course, it wasn’t.

                “Maggie?” Her voice was anxious and I remembered thinking that it was good someone cared about me enough to worry. No one else in my life did.

                And then I slumped in my chair and passed out.

Ballet

Stretching. Burning. The familiar ache in my muscles.

                All these things told me that I was doing what I loved. Doing what I adored. I leaned over to the left and lifted my right leg until it was straight up in the air. I closed my eyes in bliss and leaned over more until my palms were flat on the polished wood of the floor and brought my legs up to straight above me until I made a straight line with my body.

                I let my legs fall to the ground and I straightened and faced the crowd. I breathed deeply and smiled. Then I started running toward them and I jumped. I spread my arms out to my sides straight and I hovered there, in mid-air, for a moment. And everything was perfect. This was what I was made for. This is what I lived for.

                For the feeling of being on top of the world.

                I landed on my toes and the feeling of the hard wood beneath my feet brought me crashing back down to earth.

                I opened my eyes and sounds came rushing back to me. The music that I was supposed to have been dancing to ended in a grand finale.

                My head spun for a moment and my eyes watered at the rush of motion around me. The crowd in front of me was on its feet in thunderous applause. I blinked at them and stood there.

                And then I remembered to bow and I swept my fingers across the hardwood of the floor and took a deep breath while the crowd couldn’t see my face. When I popped back up and faced them again I had a broad smile on my lips and they started yelling my name.

                “Annie! Annie! Annie!”

Evolution

Swaying trees

Connected souls

Bending knees

You have been told

The winners lose

The losers win

All was good

And will be again

Tear it out

Throw it down

Look at the faces

All around

Conflicting rage

Joining peace

Toss it aside

Let it be

A Victorious Fatality

The darkness swelled around me and swallowed me whole. I was nothing more than a shadow, part of the darkness. I belonged to the Dark.

            I looked up at the stars. Their lights twinkled like fireflies. They were my constants in the ever changing world I lived in.

            I dreaded the rising of the sun this morning more than anything I had ever felt adversity toward before. But, like everything and everyone else around me, the sun didn’t care what I wanted or wished. The ominous light flashed over the horizon and chased away the stars.

            I blinked as the sky brightened and flooded light over the scene in front of me.

            My heart fluttered with one last beat of hope before the light stalked the darkness away, and then the landscape was vacant of anything but blood.

            Men, by the thousands, stood across from me. Bows and arrows, spears, swords, knives; they had them all. Everything you would picture when you thought of the wars in medieval times. But there was just one problem: we weren’t in the past; we were thousands of years after those days.

            I was the last one standing of the opposition, the united against the Light in the world. These soldiers of Light were my enemy, the hated. I was the Darkness’s best warrior. I fought for a dying belief, a murdered people, but I fought nonetheless.

            The wind picked up and blew trash and wreckage and scattered it across the battle field. My people lay across the countryside, scattered… dead.

            Anger poured through my veins as I stared at the woman at my feet.

            Her eyes were closed; her body was twisted as if she was rolling over in sleep. Her skin was glossy white. Her black curly hair was swept across her face from the wind. It contrasted so shockingly with her skin color that it made me shudder. Her full rosy lips had lost their color too. Her hands were clutched over her heart. Dried blood clung to her dress.

            My hold on my emotions slipped for a moment and I whispered her name, “Azalea.”

            I could have gotten through everyone else dying; but Azalea, my love, never. My eyes prickled, as if I would cry. But no tears came. I was passed all rational thought. It had been driven away by the sight of her cold and dead.

            I unsheathed the two swords hanging from my waist. They felt good in my hands; powerful.

            I bent down and pressed my lips lightly to Azalea’s.

            The army of men in front of me stirred and then someone from the back shouted, “Forward!”

            They advanced as one huge mass. I lifted my swords and smiled.

            I took a deep breath and yelled as I charged the thousands, alone… victorious.