The Unknown Battle

Lost

If I thought that the worst pain I would ever experience was when my brother died, then I was wrong.

This was the worst.

It was an agonizing stab, a searing burn, a dizzying punch.

This was the last connection that I had to my brother; the very, very last. Losing this chance was actually losing my brother. I had worked for years, sacrificed so much, to avenge my brother.

Even my age didn't make me stronger or smarter compared to the other schoolchildren.

But the thing that twisted the knife in the wound, the fact that carved the scars into my heart was that it was my best friend that was picked. My best friend who seemed silly and immature to me, but who I always thought would remain loyal.

Millie knew how much becoming an Elite meant to me. She has seen me on the dark days, the days where the sadness stifled me and I couldn't go to school or even leave my room. Millie had watched me train, even trained with me, to become fit and strong to be the better candidate.

And she accepted.

She left me behind and said yes.

When Millie stepped forwards, the whole class clapped and the Elite congratulated her. The blonde looked at me with pity now, not a glare.

That was even worse.

They took her off to the schoolhouse to explain what would come. As they walked up the worn track I looked at their backs, waiting for Millie to glance back. I wanted to see the guilt, the sadness in her eyes. I wanted her to see how deeply she had wounded me. But she didn't. She never turned back and I witnessed my future glide away from me in painstaking emptiness.

I stood there for a while.

I started to walk back home, but I couldn't. I couldn't face my parents and tell them of my failure. So I walked into the dusty forest that surrounded the west side of our province and went to the spot that Millie and I usually go to: a massive grey rock that sits in the middle of a stream.

The mood of the stream always changes. Sometimes it is peaceful and slow, the water ambling past the curves, and sometimes it is furious with the water rushing past the rock spraying us with frothing waves.

On that day it was practically still. The sun was not shining, but it was not raining. There was a cloudy cover and it seemed as if the whole forest was silent, but not waiting. There was no tension in the air, rather a heavy motionless blanket that sat there.

I was terrified. 

Absolutely terrified.

What do I do now?

What's left in my future?

I had dedicated all of my time and thoughts and energy to becoming an Elite. Now that it was gone, my life felt empty. 

But I was more scared because it meant that my all-consuming rage was gone. I had fueled it with the thought of fighting the murderers of my brother. I didn't have that chance now. This left a big, gaping hole for my sadness to fill. 

And it already was. It was like a consistent gush of sinister water in a closed cave, and I was in that cave slowly drowning.

I curled up on that rock and closed my eyes, listening to the water streaming past me slowly. There wasn't that much to listen too except my breathing.

In.

Out.

When it became dusk, the clouds darkening, I picked myself up and trekked back to my house. My house was an old, rickety home of dusty white weatherboard. It was the shape of a crooked rectangle, with creaky stairs leading up to the front door. The inside of the house was large with wooden floors and big rooms. I arrived as my parents were eating dinner, so I strolled in as if noting happened and sat down to eat the stew.

"Where were you?", my father asked whilst looking at me.

"In the forest", I replied, spooning the food in mechanically.

"You know to not go in there late at night, Leyla. You're 18, you're going to leave school soon. You need to start acting like an adult", my father said quietly. He had obviously been thinking about what to say when I was gone, and he had compacted it in a small speech.

"I know", I forced through gritted teeth.

We went back to eating in silence, my mother sitting silently with her thin hands resting in her lap. She rarely talks now, or does anything much since my brother died. My father has taken responsibility for all of her old responsibilities. He still works as a carpenter, but he can't do as much as he used to.

I finished my bowl and stood up to go to my room, hearing my father sigh.

I ignored the pang of guilt in my chest and started to walk down the hallway when I heard:

"The Elite Selection was today, Leyla".

I turned slowly. I hadn't heard that voice for a long time, and it was now raspy and dry from disuse. My mother stared back at me, her eyes bitter and sad.

"You weren't chosen, were you?", she asked.

I shuddered as I attempted to hold my tears back.

"You never were going to be chosen, though. You're too weak", she stated, squinting at me now.

That was it. 

Tears pricked at my eyes as I held my hand over my mouth.

"There it is", she muttered, clicking her tongue.

The one time that she talks, after last talking four years ago, is to express her disappointment in me. She never used to hate me like this.

In fact we used to have a closer relationship than mine with my dad. But ever since Nick died she changed. She became resentful and depressed.

But now I know what she's been thinking of in her silent days and moments. 

I've seen the glances and the frowns, but I blamed them on other causes.

I am something to be ashamed of though. I can now never live up to my brother, I can never fulfil his cause. 

I've replayed this moment many times in my head. Each time I say at least something back. I apologise, I tell her that I miss Nick, I shout at her.

But I didn't. Instead I stayed there, quietly sobbing until the shame overtook me and made me slowly tremble back to my room. I wasn't fast enough to avoid her last words, though. The words that still haunt me.

"I gave you a chance tonight. To prove yourself. To change my opinion of you. But I stand by my decision. There's no point in talking to a failure, a disappointment."

It was only then that it hit me.

My mum had talked in the last four years. 

Just not to me.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Yikes. Poor Leyla, to be honest, her Mum kinda sucks just a littttttle bit.

Have you ever had a bad experience like this with your parents? I hope not!!

I hope you're enjoying it so far; I wanted to show you a vulnerable side of Leyla. She is strong and tough, but (like a lot of people) her parent's opinion of her means a lot to her.

How would you react if this happened to you?

Thanks for reading :) (SO SO MUCH)