Goodbye Maribeth

I still think of you. My mind has been in a complete haze since you've left. To be forthcoming, lately my heart has been feeling quite bereft. Within this shell of a home, I rest by the fireplace without your warmth. You, of all people, should know how brittle fire feels compared to the touch from our kin. The sheer burst of vigor we would feel once the moon placed us asleep.

Yes... Mother Moon and her silver gaze is ever a beauty to witness. As I hook my claws into the cypress we both carved when we'd go hunting in the forest. As I listen to the wind whistle, your scent still lingers. Such a sapid aroma. Fight as I did, I still remain in this rift of combatting the tears that swell. Deep down, Maribeth...I feel hollow. I feel as though you betrayed me.

I paid a visit to your cottage, just outside the forest. The manor in which you were raised in. Your father is possibly worse than he's ever been, if you could believe that. He is lost in a drunken stupor. I lunge over the gate while the guards look not. Even now, I can recall the heat from your furious breath. I know how much you hated returning here. A door that leads to the kitchen was left unsecured. One guard whistles as he walks down the steps, and upon my appearance his eyes widen as he gasps. He fainted. Oh...

After I took the liberty of snacking on a few fruits from the basket on the countertop, I follow the shimmer down the hall. Its narrow corridor leads to the drawing room - to him. Once a proud man who championed his fellow man as a soldier, is now reduced to a belching slop. Honestly, its hard to bear. The man who once flogged you for your natural gift, is now sluggish and lumpy. One who stares blankly into the fire. A part of me thinks that he wanted it to be him.

What good does such sentiment do now, I wonder. At the time, Maribeth, I had no idea that someone as strong as you, someone as brave as you, could possibly harbor such ill thoughts towards yourself.

As I continue to crawl low, your father still gazes into the fireplace. So distant that he doesn't even look my way. I steady my steps as the floorboard groans. Maybe from my weight? Only his eyes move, albeit the room had a few less candles lit than my last visit, but that doesn't weaken my sights.

"Oh..." He belches as he empties his bottle of poisonous brown nectar into the glass. His throat bulges as he tilts his head back to absorb more misery from a vacant bottle. "You're here again, beast?" His taunt falls short. Your father always had a way with words. "Get away from my home, damn you!" He throws the glass into the fire; completely opposite in the direction in which I stalk.

Without a second to think, I could have easily tore him limb from limb. It would be OH SO easy. When I think about what his kind does to make an example out of us, I die a little. The ripping our pelts for their own honorary decor. The removal of our fangs for their experiments. The amount of coin they profit once they expose us to the local towns. They've even gone as far as to create an institution that focuses on slaughtering our kin. To think this man was the man who raised someone as kind as you. Now that you're gone, Maribeth, I never stopped to think about your feelings in the matter.

The old drunk slinks back into his seat. Completely slumped, he falls asleep. He's never looked more peaceful.

Sometimes, when entering the dream, it is a trick on the mind as to whether or not I am still myself. It was you who taught me that what the dream reveals is what our hearts truly wanted. Does that mean that my dream is still a pacifist? Even now?

You'll have to forgive me, Maribeth. I creeped into your bedroom. My talons struggle to lift your picture from the nightstand. I wince at the shock of how bright your mirth was. How my heart quivers at the idea that you would do such a vile thing! Maribeth!

Without realizing, I yowled. The windows nearby rattle as I stomp through the floorboards. My claws tear into the wood of your dresser. I was beside myself when this occurred, please bear that in mind. Upon shredding through your curtains and swiping my talons across the walls of your bed chambers, I remembered the moon lilies. I remember how they especially bloom during a new moon. A sign of passing. I grab them from underneath your pillow. As I hear the guards downstairs as they storm the manor, I lunge through the window. The shards prick against my fur, but this is nothing.

Even with the mess I had caused. By the time your father's guards had shown themselves, I left with only small scrapes.

As fast as I could abscond. As far as I could flee. I ran and ran without counting the hours with my eyes still teeming with the tears. And I climbed the biggest tree - the cypress we marked, the one you climbed when you fell. A fall like that wouldn't kill our kind. No...it takes MUCH, MUCH MORE than a fall that steep to put an end to us. Yet...at that time the sun had risen. And you...you had reverted back into human flesh. How far down did you glare into that void before you leapt? What thoughts were streaming through your mind when you decided to abandon me? How could you have left me here in this world again and alone, Maribeth?

How could you?

Your scent still marks this tree. I can still feel you, even though you are no longer here to hunt with me. As the sun draws nigh, I can feel my breath waver. My spirit weakens. Yet... I cannot follow you outside the dream. Not just yet. I leave my mark on our tree. And once a year, on the anniversary of your departure, I will bring moon lilies in hopes of seeing you again. Goodbye, Maribeth...