30 day writing challenge

He had just wanted him to stop. For once to just stop. His taunting voice kept repeating and overlapping in his head. No matter the effort he put into covering his ears.

He just wanted him to stop. He just didn’t want to hear his brother’s incessant mocking.

Then suddenly it was silent. A peaceful quiet. It didn’t last very long, the peacefulness. For when he opened his eyes, the look on his brother’s face as he was drowning right in front of him… It was a look he would never forget.  The way his parents looked at him afterwards when they understood what was going was also something he would never forget.

He hated it, oh Iosta, he hated it. Why did she give him this power? Why give it to him when it was so destructive? When it could easily hurt? He didn’t want to hurt anyone. He had just wanted him to stop, he didn't want to hurt him.

So he made a silent promise to himself.

Never do harm, only do good, cause all of a sudden he felt like he was made to be destructive and harmful and he just hated it.

Dreaming was wishing for something unattainable.

It was what you did when everything was unbearable.

It was playing with the thought that he could leave this town with the one person he wished to spend the rest of his life with in a silent corner of the world. A little corner for them. Where they could have their own little cabin and there was no one but them for miles. Maybe by the sea. Where it was just happiness and peace. Where they could grow old together. Where they would have a little garden they could tend to in the summer, and in the winter they could sit by the fireplace underneath a blanket.

It was playing with the silliness of what could be, what the future could hold when in reality it could not. It could have been them traveling the world before they settled down in that cabin. Seeing what it offered. Seeing what new experiences there could be. It was imagining seeing his love of his life experiencing things neither of them had before.

Dreaming was daring to think about how different things could be.

Dreaming was nothing like reality.

For in reality none of those things could happen. He was trapped in this city and he for certain couldn’t drop everything and just leave. besides that one person was no longer here.

Or maybe that one person was eternally dreaming. Maybe it was a pleasant dream, maybe it was a dream about that cabin in their own little small and silent corner of the world, by the sea. With the garden and the fireplace.

Yeah, that would be nice if that was true.