They approached the cave: the dark-haired barbarian, the fair-haired elf, the ork with a pipe and the Sherlock Holmes uniform, the brown-haired human with a severe chin, level-headed gaze.
"We proceed as planned," said the last, his voice strong and manly.
"But, Orion--the Undead walk those caverns," reminded the Sherlock-ork, taking a swig of his pipe.
"We go regardless, Watson," said the elf, drawing his sword with an air of challenge. "We must reach the Lake of dreams and the Haven in the Village."
The dark-haired barbarian smiles. "We can find light in those caves," he said. "Mark me."
"What say you, Finley?" Asks Orion, "What light is there in a cave of Death?"
He gestured behind them, towards the setting sun in the Valley below, and suddenly, a beautiful woman appeared, dazzling sunlight traveling in Celtic patterns over her skin; her hair a soft blond, her skin pale, her eyes--bright--and grey-green. She was clad in a white dress that flowed like angels' wings, translucent enough that the sun glimmered in it in an on odd blue light--and she smiled.
A beautiful, perfect smile from this attractive, thin woman, more beautiful than any before.
"My wife," said Barbarian-Finley, "Payton Wiese."
Hey, a girl can dream, right?
Today, Finley told me his mother wants him to work at housework all throughout Spring Break. That made me pissed, so I told him that his mother didn't have a lot to worry about. I said, maybe I don't know her so well, maybe she has stress I don't know about; like dealing with Derek and his business, but she has two beautiful, strong, healthy sons, and she should really be proud of them. She was mad that Riley stayed away for an extra night?
That's shit to me. If I didn't come home, my mother's worry isn't about how she's going to punish me; it's if I'm lying dead in a ditch somewhere after seizing... my mother's worry when I leave my house at any time is if I'm going to die alone, in the dark.
She's mad they don't do housework? Her job's stressful? My mom looks after a house with seven people and three animals, and runs her own section of a company.
Point two: Nan's stressed in general life.
Fuck you. Don't tell me about stressed. You wanna know stress? You give your baby a syringe full of insulin. You listen to him say, "Mommy, please don't hurt me anymore." You watch your other son draw pictures with dark eyes and blood dripping from their teeth. You pack your son's ass full of bandages, after removing the ones covered in blood EVERY DAY, and then put new ones in while he tries not to scream because it hurts so bad EVERY DAY, you take that blood on your hands, and then go back to work. Start smiling again.
You have healthy, strong, sons, sons that, were I their mother, I would be so proud of. Even if Finley weren't mine, it wouldn't matter. They work hard for you. They clean house for you, and whatever you ask of them, they do it. You know they are safe more than ninety-nine percent of the time. They gave up one--now two--spring breaks, one winter break, and an entire summer being slave labor to build you a new house while you barely did anything. I gave up my winter break and spring break, and my summer, and now I'm going to have to give up another one.
How dare you. How dare you take the last time we have before we're plunged into responsibility like this. How dare you!
Riley? Finley? You are magnificent sons, and were I your mother, I would be so... so proud of you.
I'm angry she's not--and she owes me a summer. At least, she owes me that summer. At least. She owes me all the plans Finley and I had to give up for her--all the frivolity, camping trips, picnics, Lake Ripley parties, Renascence fairs, everything, she owes it to us.
Katie left for Georgia today. I'll miss her... Live free, friend. See the world through your special eyes... and know I love you.
Always, know that.
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