in the naked light I saw | teenhood | for cywyllog

[cadcamlan]

He understands where he's going. It's not reassuring, but it's good to know that there's a purpose to his suffering; that his fate is sealed for a purpose, if not exactly as he had wanted it to be. At least knowing made it easier to bear the visions. Made it easier to take control of his mind in the day like Cywyllog had said he could.

Things can go back to normal. He can enjoy this last bit of childhood with someone who won't leave him for knowing his fate. They can relax away from curses and back into stone-skipping, into fort-building.

So he searches the shores for her. He skirts the woods. He wants to laugh with her today, to squeeze her hand and poke her ribs and tug her hair because everything was under control.

She'd be there, right?

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[cywyllog]

Cywyllog is somewhere between, not quite in the woods but not at the shore, either. She's sitting on an outcrop of rocks, knees hugged against her chest. Not crying (she will not cry; she won't).

It's been a whirlwind of a few days and all she wants is to be left alone. For everyone to stop fussing over her like they couldn't tell which daughter she was a few years ago.

She doesn't want to be grown up today. Somewhere deep inside, she knows that wishing so makes her one even more.