At Canyon’s Edge
The dust finally began to settle and I saw her positioned just a few feet away from the canyons edge. A sigh, which seemed utterly elusive just a few moments ago, escaped my lips. I relaxed. I hit the zoom on my binoculars to better assess the damage. There she stood, my elder sister, in tattered clothing heaving after an exhausting battle. Something dark dribbled from her ear. I gasped, her amplifier had been ripped out. I cringed at the idea of the tiny hooks being separated from the flesh of her inner ear.
A moment of panic washed over me then was gone just as quickly as it came. She didn’t really need the amplifier. It only served as a constant source of sound, readily available for her to manipulate. My sister was an amazing being. She had learned to absorb soundwaves and convert them into destructive energy. Destructive was the key word. By the time she was seven she had laid waste to half of the structures in our village. For a long time, she struck fear into the hearts of those in our community but not today. Today, she was their savior and mine.
With the amplifier gone she would need more time to charge. Then I saw the wasteland of bots that lay before her. Man had created them to help but they quickly turned and set out to destroy us all. They were succeeding. For the past 18 months our village had turned into nomads, frantically trying to outrun the danger behind us and find a safe haven. We crossed the bridge over the canyon under the cover of darkness. My sister was last but she did not cross with us. Instead she destroyed the bridge and vowed to hold back the threat in order to give us time to get away. With the bots down she could rejoin us, all she had to do now was find a way across.
I smiled and longed to hold her once more. My celebrations were cut short by a metallic creak. I turned my attention from my sister to the bots. The scraping of metal against metal grew louder and my eyes widened in horror. Lazarus Bots! They were Lazarus Bots, meant to take a beating and rebuild themselves from whatever parts were left. I focused on my sister once more and saw the same horrified expression on her face. My heart turned to lead and dropped into the pit of my stomach. She couldn’t with stand another wave of battle, not without her amplifier.
I watched as the bots repaired themselves and as my sister looked around desperate for inspiration; my helplessness felt like it was tied to my neck like a weight and pulled me under the waves of despair. I uttered a silent prayer to whomever would listen as I watched the events unfolding below.
Suddenly, she kicked off her shoes and tossed her socks over the edge of the canyon. Barefoot, she could easily take in the natural vibrations underfoot as the bots pounded the earth. She stood with feet squared off as one ready to take a hit. I heard a faint humming, closed my eyes and strained to listen. Above the clanging of the bots I heard a lullaby. It was the lullaby our mother sang to us; my sister was humming my mother’s lullaby. I searched my brain for an explanation. Eureka! She was mimicking the amplifier; she was becoming her own source of energy. She was taking it all in, the sounds of the howling wind, the crashing bots, and that of her humming. I began to shout and stomp on the ground. I was far away but I knew they would reach her. It was the only thing I could do. She was going to give it one last try.
Her hands came together then slowly pulled apart and a tiny orb of light floated between them growing ever so slowly. I stopped everything as the realization of what she was doing rammed me in the chest. Now I shouted for her to stop, desperately, I put all I had into that scream. When I thought my throat would give up on me my voice was snatched from me and the world was silent. The wind still blew and the bots were still rebuilding but they produced no sound. My eyes widened, she was absorbing the waves so fast that they didn’t have time to make sound. My lips moved wildly but in vain.
She had done this once before a few years ago. When she released it the boom turned three surrounding buildings to dust. It threw her over 100 feet and left her deaf for the better part of a year. This was it, her last stand. Warm tears carved trails on my dusty cheeks.
The bots were finished and slowly closed the gap between them and my sister. I dove behind a boulder and peeked around the side. I uttered one final goodbye with silent lips. I watched as she took a deep breath and tossed the orb high into the air. It reached its peak and began to descend, aiming for the center of the bots’ battalion. I watched as she turned and bolted for the edge of the canyon. Her arms flew out to the sides and she leapt. Her form was swallowed by the canyons huge mouth and I knew I had seen my sister for the last time.
The orb was inches from hitting the ground. I laid flat behind the boulder, plugged my ears, and opened my mouth. If I survived I vowed to tell everyone of my sister’s sacrifice. She would be our modern day Prometheus and if humans survived another thousand years she would live on in myth and legend. I squeezed my eyes tightly shut and waited.
The internet
Kids these days have the Internet
When I was 13
I'd masturbate in my own bed
To women in their panties and bras
From the JC Penny catalog
They came weekly
There was a reoccurring model
Who looked somewhat like a woman who lived on my street
She was my mother's age
My mother said she was a divorcée
And somehow I thought that made her slutty
That she was broken
And that brokenness made her desperate
That her desperation could only mean
Her husband had left her because
She slept with boys who were 13
I didn't really believe it though
Only at night
With a dim nightlight
Just bright enough to cast a glow
Over the face and torso
And wrap up a bow
On the fantasies of a woman
Who lived on my street
We called it making due
In the last days of truly being able to say
"There's nothing new"
But kids these days have the Internet
With 4000 friends to respond to tweets
The only stranger they've left to meet
Is themselves
Once
Downtime was a pastime
Ideas were uncorrupted
And imagination didn't have auto-drive
Knowledge came slowly
To give time
For wisdom to catch up
Thus drawing lines between
Truth and lies
That could always rely
On maturity
But kids these days have the internet
And they all expect a prize
Ruining their own surprise
Of making it to home plate
With the milf they think they could date
Because she likes to show her ass
On Instagram and snapchat
The only problem here
Is what they CAN'T see
And that she teaches the 8th grade
To boys who ARE 13
When she isn't posing in her bathroom
Stealing all the mysteries
Without which
There are no fantasies
But kids these days have the internet