Faded Like Wind


The sea out those windows. The rocks bordered by sand. Is that bicycle still here? It is rusting away, but it'll work once more. On those bridges, like docks riding atop the ocean, with stalls and shops, they shy away. Yes, it is different this time. No longer do I fade into the wind. If I could predict, then I would separate myself before the end, for my existence has become a poison.
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There are those who welcome me still, those who accept that I may bring their deaths without fear. The one who has many times been as a mother, seeking me out every time I am born. The young ones, with dark hair and red eyes, like how mine now become to signal that I have become like the basilisk. They are as brothers to me, and harmless to all. They are immune to my poison, and take me with them wherever they go, even as my body weakens.
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They are all much older than I, now, if only in form, and we have recognized each other, time and again. They do not change much; they say that no matter how I seem to change, I always have the same adorable round face, the same wide eyes like lapis lazuli. I wonder what it's like to be an adult; I've never lived that long.
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I've lasted much longer than usual, this time; it will be my fourteenth birthday in a week. Few of my brothers can be around me without falling ill. They are brilliant; like wizards who cast magic with titanium and red wires, they have made a chair with mechanical legs to support my weakened body.
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Even those few who could be around me are now falling ill. One of them has a theory - testing it proves it absolutely correct. We agree; it may be temporary, but it can be fixed. I love his honesty - "This is gonna hurt like hell, kid."
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It feels as though something terrible is approaching. There is still time for us to be together. Why does that seem so important when I will return?
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It has come. I hear a brief report, fragmented by the radio turning off. She who is like our mother comes to guide us away, but I cannot go. She knows as well as I that no shelter is protection enough.
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I will fight with my only weapon.

At this thought, I am struck with a fear like none I have felt, as though I am refusing something as precious as air. It means nothing. My decision is made.
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I can hear its approach. For these people, I have given my sight. I cannot be sure that I am alone. But this must be done.
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Each path, the layout of each room; they are carved into my menmory. I guide myself out to the beach, the click-clack of my metal legs giving way.
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I can only wait, now.
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Horrifying. An indescribable sound. My eyes burn. I pray that this is a living being.
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Ever-so-gently, I am lifted. I can feel it - that force without name seeps out of my body, drawing me into emptiness, into a peace like none I have known before.
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Horrifying. An indescribable sound. I skid across the sand, a softer landing than any else here.