Do you know how long I have waited for someone to comment on one of my posts and give me a heart? And then I realized, What if there's someone out there that has that same dream? I could be that person that gives them a heart. So now I comment with hearts.

I thought I hated all mortals.

In my mind they were foolish creatures, weak and insufferable, ugly and greedy, pathetic and argumentative. They were the race bearing a lack of compliance or acceptance for another's differences. Seeing the perspective or point of view of a person standing right next to them was a feat that didn't come naturally and a skill far too few achieved. They were quick to wage war, but quicker to beg for their meaningless lives.

Such a being was too easy to kill, off a whim.

I stopped trying to understand mortals long ago, so on a particular fateful day, I didn't question why an infant mortal was left alone in a dessert, unmonitored and defenseless.

Its wailings were faint. Had I not been a superior race, I would have flown past it without realizing. Instead, off a whim, I descended towards it.

I remember the wailing stopped once my claw reached the sand. I had never seen one that small before. My wings curled around the creature - call it predatorial instinct. The sunlight cast a faint red shadow through the thin of my wings and against their curious little eyes. Its sun-tanned hand stretched away from its strangled blanket and out for me; an empty threat, one I chose to ignore.

I stooped down to its level and the first thing it decided to do was reach for my hair, pulling the red strands in tiny bunches - as I said before, 'quick to wage war'. I grabbed it by the wrist and raised it up high for a better display. It fainted. On another whim I decided to bring it back with me.

I thought once it reached my den I'd want it dead, but it intrigued me with its strange behaviour, making bubbly scream-noises anytime it saw something new. I fed it and decided to keep it around. It wasn't like the other mortals I hated so much, this one possessed a certain light.

It gave me a thought.

What if I nurtured this light? What if I grew it in a way that could improve the species from within?

So I did. I became a sort of mother, or father perhaps - I forgot what they were called.

It grew fairly quickly and I grew used to its company. So used to it, in fact, that I found myself preoccupied with needless thoughts on its safety, its wellbeing, and its joy. I grew fond of its expressions when I took it for a fly. I had to protect its bubble-scream, and its gentle, constant, expression changes. I had to give it more reasons to latch its arms around me. I had to make sure it wouldn't wail and leak through the eyes in that awful way mortals do.

I paid attention to the many, many things that could cause its demise. Since falling over could cause it to bleed, anything greater than that was a threat. I hated this. This threat-list made me do crazy things; like take the full force of an attack to shield it from harms way, or dive into a lake that naturally seeps my energy to prevent it from drowning, or beg...

beg other mortals to spare its targetted, fleeting life in exchange for the immortality of mine.

To the "sucker" with failed memories

shut in one locket

To the "crazy" with brain damage

Stuffed in their pocket

To the "crybaby" with depression

trapped under their skin

To the "fatty" with obesity

inherited from their kin

To the "snob" with a broken family

not spoken of, never said

To the "slut" with trust issues

stuck in their head

To the "weirdo" with anxious tendencies

replayed everyday

To the "pretty girl" with an illness

concerning how much they weigh

To the "goody-goody" with OCD

hidden in their blood

To the "loner" with social anxiety

invisible to everyone

To the "troublemaker" with deficiencies

stored in their brain

To the "quiet" with loud voices

causing them pain

To the "attention-seeker" with homophobes

waiting for them at home

To everyone who is "different."

I love you more than you know.

Looking like a crazy person I smiled. Wide grinned and toothy. All day I smiled because I was going to be a big sister. I was seven years old at the time and had always wanted a sibling. Praying and singing to God for a little sister to play with. Growing up was a little bit lonely at times, having to move around constantly. But I knew - I knew having a sister to play pretend with would make everything better.

Inevitably, my silly smiling had creeped out a few children in my grade. Obliviously, I continued grinning, for my wish had finally come true. I spend the day dreaming of what sisterhood would be like; April Fools pranks, trick-or-treating at Halloween, driving our mom crazy. Heck, I even gave her a early nickname - Lovebug. After school, I ran to the car excited for the hospital. We drove for seemingly hours but when we got there -

it was all worth the wait. My little sister, wrapped in a pink blanket, and bald. Happiness and pride welled in my heart as I held her, determined to be the best big sister.

However, she would be living with my mom. While I live with my grandparents. Don't get me wrong at the time I was ecstatic. But I felt a my heart drop when I thought of how "sisterhood" wouldn't be. I was angry and heartbroken. I still am. The universes' cruel joke was to give me a sister whom I can't have. Carrying on bitterly I found myself unhappy, depressed even. Until I began accepting that I would miss growing up with her. I would miss growing up with my little brother. Although we visited occasionally, visits were tainted with anger and grief. Lovebug mourned the loss of an older sister while I grieved the loss of a little sister and brother. How could I not be melancholic when I barely know my sister whom I wanted all this time? Never truely connecting I distanced myself. My heart got lost in the sea of solitude. Paddling back to the shores deemed impossible with the ongoing family feud. Hope was still in the horizon.

I might miss a childhood but I will have my siblings in adulthood. Where we can share all of our silly stories and fun memories; and our sorrows and dreams. Waiting for the day is painful but worthwhile. When we three are independent we can rebuild the broken pieces of our familial and sibling bonds.

#nonfiction

#story

We're passionate

About the causes

But we often disagree

We stand on opposing lines

Holding our signs

We do it because we are free

Let's be apart

On the issues

If that we really must

But never stop talking

While away we're walking

In each other we should trust

We can try to

Find an answer

If only that we will

In joy and sorrow

We look for tomorrow

And not let silence kill

My cheek stung like fire.

To make thing worse, the world around me was spinning into a blob of colors. I felt as if there was a weight in my stomach pressing me down. My heart was pounding so quickly, but it felt like it was beating in long, hard thumps. Whatever breath was left in me was coming out in short wheezes. I wanted to cry. I wanted to curl up in a ball and forget about everything around me. People began staring at me after what had happened, and I realized I needed to get somewhere safe. The problem was, I felt like I was going to fall over. Without giving it much thought, I run out the doors of the school. I know no one will chase after me or try to help me. It's always been this way.

I slump down on the short concrete wall surrounding the large tree in the front of the school. My hands begin shaking like a leaf. Here we go, I think to myself. The tears start flowing out of my eyes as quickly as my hands started shaking. My breathing was fitful and I made no effort to try to control it. I scolded myself for crying like a baby, and I told myself I should be stronger than this.

The cool wind flowed through my dark hair and chilled the tears upon my cheeks. I know it sounds stupid, but I just felt lost.

When I started thinking about what I did to end up like this, I swear I felt someone touch my back. I couldn't see anything because of my hair covering my eyes, but I felt someone gently rubbing my back. I tried to control my breathing and stop crying so I could see who it was touching me, but it was nearly impossible. It was as if I was drowning in a dark, dark pool.

I frantically wiped away my tears as I felt this person's gentle hand on my back. I was just about to look up when something stopped me. The wind ceased its gentle breeze and my cheek was no longer stinging. Then a soft, gentle voice whispered in my ear, "Breathe."

I lifted my head and realized no one was there. I searched all around me but found no trace of anyone ever coming near me. The wind began blowing again. All I did was take a deep breath in, and let every single worry and pain I was feeling leave my body when I breathed back out.

And that was all.