Author Games: Brave New World

Semifinals: Demetrius Vittore

I misunderstood.

The world around me shattered and ignited, from the branches on trees to the wind that blew them. I saw them for the first time as Demetrius huddled in a sacramented group. I misunderstood how endangered lives straggled to become common and stable; Demetrius was one, a life, walking with a authoritative step. If he wasn't given a cure, no one would be. It was a rare sight to see the members of the circle interact with one another- few stayed silent because they didn't want their last words to remain a disheartened grumble. No; we all wanted more than that.

I misunderstood perception. I had always believed the world I see to be the correct world: why would there be any other? I misunderstood reality and ideas, thinking and breathing. Movement. Emotions. And terms of endearment, satisfaction, love.

Mostly, towering above the statues of the rest, I misunderstood Demetrius' intentions. As I've made him seem, the young man was soft, quiet, and apparently a boy at heart.

I was wrong.

Demetrius did not care for the bear I had thought he adored. Rather, I was a toy and a token and an attribute he assigned himself to make others think of him less.

"We have to be going," Demetrius said, grabbing my arm. "If you aren't there, I won't be the most innocent anymore."

The statement was simple. Of course, with how old he truly was, I should have grown out my fur to expect something like it to happen. He used me to get ahead, by falling behind. It was horrible.

It was the only reason he was still alive.

He coughed under his breath, throat and chest rising and dipping. The way he moved, flitted, shook his eyes was enticing. He was wild in his sight, never satisfied with the peripheral. Demetrius sighed every few steps and it was beginning to become an annoyance. Stop it, I thought to tell him, you are turning into a beast.

I was the bear; but, he was the beast.

It was a fine day, really. The pathway was barren and not walked upon, yet the leaders of the group made it seem like they knew where they were going. Of course, like any man in a foreign land, they had no clue. Give me legs and I'll lead! I'll find the cure!

Demetrius stopped moving. His legs went still as the beating in his chest turned into a polar ice cap, sharp and frozen. The air was a mime to the taciturn organ, wisping and breathing through the tufts of thick fur. And the ground seemed so far away, so close, so far, and so close.

It was my favorite moment on Danu. It was the last moment I was truly whole.

There was a loud bang, a berating assortment of echoes coming after. An otherworldly piercing struck my shoulder as Demetrius' body convulsed and fell to the floor. And the sun was like a cover and the floor was the cut, my limbs crashing on the dirt. He dropped, following the gunshot. People were armed and people were within an unstated war- the thick forest and brushy ground immediately adorned a new title. An appellation of disgust and fear.

Fear.

We are scared.

"Get down, get down, get-"

"-armed! They're armed!"

Another shot, and another and another. I don't remember how many people were hit, but the throbbing I wanted to feel in my shoulder overrode all else. It should have hurt; why did the wound not sting?

Then, silence.

Demetrius' breaths filtered in and out, like raggedy dolls with detaching limbs. I could feel sweat beading his hands and a tremor equip each finer individually; some sniffles alerted me that the crowd was crying.

We are scared.

The thickness of the forest did not do much for us. Easily, the armed force found the stragglers and lined them up, hands not cuffed, but held to the back as three people of Thalita's group stood tall. Their legs were quivering, however; only I saw that. Their faces were complete stone, grey in the skin and cracked in the eyes.

"We have nothing for you," a taller man said, his long hair tangled at the ends. "But we won't hurt you." He was low in tone, like somehow- if he was high-pitched- the lies of the statement would be more apparent. And Demetrius scoffed after the man spoke; he knew the cure was close by.

Looking past the speaker, two others wore small coats and balled their hands into incomplete fists. There it was, the medicine, the liquidation that would extend the life of Demetrius- that would extend the life of me.

If he died, will I cease to exist?

I knew I'd never die, but death isn't the only way to end a life. Honestly, as time went on, I stopped believing I had a life in the first place. Demetrius was a man; I was his figment, toy, imagination of physical consciousness, and nothing could stop u perception from closing in and stopping.

I promise

to stay

until you

die.

I vow to

be with you

not if, when

you are dead.

Demetrius began to crawl, circling around a stone as a friend of his took a step towards the speaking man. She said something of unfairness, accusing the opposite colony of treason. Of acts against the planet. The man retorted with one phrase, words of survival... He said:

"Danu is done. All we do now, is live."

We are scared.

My mind began to fade. My vision blurring, insides swelling, thoughts raging on. It was like sleep, welcoming nightmare because- at least- it meant feeling. A child of foolish fears, monsters and nighttime; a parent with a misconstrue life.

And feeling was all Demetrius wanted.

It was all we needed.

Demetrius was quick and hasty with his attack, grabbing the two people behind the speaker. His fists were clenched and feet slipping against rocks on the ground. The air went thin, and suddenly I lost everything. The sound of shattering glass was the last thing I heard, crackling shards flying and glinting with the sun's shine.

I was on the ground and so was he. His head had hit the floor roughly. Then, blood.

Then,