I stand alone
I stand with another
I stand in shifting times.
I am my dream
I am my end.
I am a drop
And the ripple.
After:
It is always fascinating how time will continue to flow as it always does. One event to the next as a second passing becomes the future.
As I sit here in this house I find myself calling home I think back to the events that led to me and my daughter being here, events that shaped so much in our lives. I wonder why I do not feel anger towards my sister for what she did, there is sorrow, much sorrow, but no anger.
Is that because I forgive her or do I feel as she did?
I do not have the answer to that question and I probably never will, but I do know this. I miss her.
Naomi says that I should try to write about what happened so that I can see it all in writing. So I sit here, it is quiet in the house. Naomi is asleep, my daughter is asleep and I do not need to sleep until tomorrow.
Where do I begin? Do I begin at the beginning or do I begin at this very moment? I’ll let my heart decide as I write.
And so with that said it begins. Fancy that.
~~
1982, Six months before the twins were three years old:
Policy, it was a simple word when he thought about it. Policies, laws, rules, all of them used to govern a society that didn’t know the bitter truth because of what they were made to live.
A truth that few knew and the few who did know were jaded towards that truth, their feelings towards the British Empire bitter, but not bitter enough to enforce change.
Policy.
Policy was why he was here today, to test the new generation of Military Blood children. All of them are so very young, so very innocent and so very carefree.
He pitied them because he knew that before they were even born that all of them had been denied the right to live as free people, but instead to serve an Empire run by greedy, power hungry fools.
He can hear those children on the other side of the doors, they sounded so happy, so unaware of what their lives were now going to become.
Taking a deep breath and exhaling in order to calm himself, he opens the doors and enters the room.
Commander James Carlson is a plain man, despite his sharply pressed uniform and regulation hair cut, he is a very plain man with dusty black hair, light brown eyes and dark skin.
He is one of a few from his homeland who a Military Blood soldier, most are Beggar or Worker Blood, and has an average height for a man. He speaks his thoughts and holds to his beliefs of serving for the good of all instead of merely a few, he does his duty and works hard.
He has no ambitions of his own and has never desired more than what he has, he only hopes that he will survive to retire and die in bed instead of on the battlefield like so many other Empire soldiers.
He talks to the various mothers and fathers in the room, leaving one for last. He greets their young children and smiles where required, biting his lip from telling them that from this day on that their lives were forfeit because of policy.
