GHAUL
i can take you there, but baby, you won't make it back
Greta had been the first to leave. No, that’s not quite right, is it? Bible had been the first and he has picked that day apart a thousand times over. Greta had been second, followed by Father and Dawn. He has learned to swallow these aches and pains whole so that he no longer chokes on the way it feels to wake up without them again. The lump is still there in his throat, but he can breathe around it now. These confessions of weakness only come in the dead of night as he lies next to Clarissa. It is the only place he feels safe enough to whisper them to her so that she might kiss his tired head.
She was not the first to leave, but she is the first to return to him, and he does not recognize the blur of her warmth at first. When she calls his name, he tilts his head curiously and approaches until he can see her better. Time has passed and he has grown so tall. The boy she knew was all ribs and fearful teeth. He strains his ears for what she says next but her mumbling apology does not reach him. Still, the memory clicks into place and he closes the distance that remains.
A leathery wing extends and he curls it gently over her tiny body in a soft embrace. Ghaul lowers his head and chuffs lightly into her forelock as he memorizes her face once more, tracing it with his nose as lightly as he can. “Still here,” he mumbles softly as he bumps her chin with his nose.
All the baby teeth he had before have been traded in for sizable fangs now, though they align crooked in the smile that forms for her. His wings fold against his back once he’s certain that he has held her for long enough. The gesture had been half rejoicing in her return and half uncertainty that she was real after all this time.
“Did I make you leave?”
The question had echoed across his thoughts for each of them. He was the only common factor in all the relationships that withered to nothing, all the people who had left him for some place else. Ghaul has tried so hard to be a worthy son and friend. What is so hard to love about him, he wonders?
Why is it always so hard to stay?
She was not the first to leave, but she is the first to return to him, and he does not recognize the blur of her warmth at first. When she calls his name, he tilts his head curiously and approaches until he can see her better. Time has passed and he has grown so tall. The boy she knew was all ribs and fearful teeth. He strains his ears for what she says next but her mumbling apology does not reach him. Still, the memory clicks into place and he closes the distance that remains.
A leathery wing extends and he curls it gently over her tiny body in a soft embrace. Ghaul lowers his head and chuffs lightly into her forelock as he memorizes her face once more, tracing it with his nose as lightly as he can. “Still here,” he mumbles softly as he bumps her chin with his nose.
All the baby teeth he had before have been traded in for sizable fangs now, though they align crooked in the smile that forms for her. His wings fold against his back once he’s certain that he has held her for long enough. The gesture had been half rejoicing in her return and half uncertainty that she was real after all this time.
“Did I make you leave?”
The question had echoed across his thoughts for each of them. He was the only common factor in all the relationships that withered to nothing, all the people who had left him for some place else. Ghaul has tried so hard to be a worthy son and friend. What is so hard to love about him, he wonders?
Why is it always so hard to stay?