Work Text:
I was a small kid. A pariah. The piece that didn't fit. A castaway who found something out of the populous's sight, like me. Instead of family, friends, colleagues, I had discovery, projects, tiny revolution after tiny revolution. I was pushed further out. A lunatic. A heretic. A blemish to the society. In that outer realm, someone got pushed into me. He was a small kid. A pariah. A piece that didn't fit. A rebel. A savior. He spoke of large scale revolution. He spoke of a place where our people could be free. Where people like me could be respected. He used the potential I didn't know I had to make a simple day dream come closer and closer, and it took us with it, back into the world to make it our own. He loved me. Someone loved me. We made a place we could love. But we didn't experience it together. Why couldn't we? Why did I have to see that life drain, hear that breath drain, feel that blood drain? Why could no deal bring him to his home?
I was a mixed woman. A widow. An optimistic mother. A deal maker. The last one who could keep the dream alive. Instead of projects, I had children, citizens. You still gave me purpose. You still gave me the respect of our people. You still gave me a family. She was a mixed up girl. A daughter. A wife. A rebel. She was confused. She didn't understand what we had done. She didn't understand what you had done. She tried to bring the enemy you died to sever from us back into this home. She tried to give her incorrect wife the crown. She didn't understand what I had to do.
I was a protective man. A martyr. A judge. A master. Atlas. I had seen my children fade away. I had seen your children rot. He was a fucked up mirror. A monarch. A bull. An idiot. He was the first to not look like you, among the many that no longer looked like me. He disobeyed. He wanted to ruin our home. He argued because of that people. The people who were no longer ours. He didn't like everything I did. He then changed. He let go of his stupid people, but resented his guide. His master. Your servant. He began to act only for himself. Against me, against you. He began to fall to the ground. He began to beg. He began to cry. He began to fall apart. He began to spill. He was never ours.
I was a lost soul. A pariah. The perfect piece that was removed. A castaway pushed out of the populous's sight. It was his fucking offspring. They ruined it all. They fought me. They lost our home. Their people took it. They prevented me from protecting our work. But I could never stop. I must keep going. I must fall back on my tiny revolutions as I have time and time again. I must continue puppetting, even if I'm farther away, even if the strings are unruly. I've been fighting, and fighting, and fighting, to keep things together. To keep your kids on the right road. To keep our home on the right path. I'm so tired of fighting. Why can't I be respected again? Why can't I be home again? Why can't we all be a family again?
She looked like you.