Brother Sharpens Brother

Beginnings: Cole

Cole

Pulling himself over the ledge, he grinned, letting his shaking body fall into the cool clover patch at his feet. He felt elated, happy he had finally arrived at the top of the mesa before dark. He loved this feeling of release. Smiling for the first time in what felt like forever, the young man ran a hand through his sweat soaked hair making it stick up in irregular places. He had gone a long time without a bit of fun, and now that he was away from the village, a sense of enjoyment had seated itself within him.

He was so relaxed after the climb, he wasn't sure he'd go back. He finally had gained a shred of peace. Don't get him wrong, he was sore in every possible place on his body, and his arms and legs were trembling with fatigue, but Cole hadn't felt like this in a long time. Not since he had lost his parents anyways.

Cole rolled onto his stomach, peering over the edge of the cliff and gazing out over the little village in the valley below. They were probably looking for him. Who knows how much trouble he was in, but for once he couldn't find it in him to care. He knew he needed a breather, and he took the first opportunity that presented itself. The couple who was taking care of him never gave him space to think. No matter where he went they followed him, making sure never to leave him unsupervised. Their hovering drove him to near insanity at times. Seriously, he's seventeen, not three.

Trying to rid himself of his thoughts, Cole set his eyes on the tiny beetle making its way along his calloused hand. He raised an eyebrow almost bemusedly at the insect before guiding the small creature onto a nearby clover bud and watching it leave.

Sure, he missed his parents terribly, but in the end he could live with their absence, it serves him right for never spending any time with them anyway. That's what the villagers didn't understand, he could keep it together quite fine by himself. He didn't want anyone's pitying glances, or random hugs that lasted longer than needed. He was fine, if he's not, then that's his problem. He hated their coddling and advice for coping. What else was there to do? His parents were gone. They were dead, and he couldn't have done anything to save them, so why should he be allowed to cry?

Cole dramatically blew a few strands of his windblown hair out of his eyes, sitting cross-legged as he watched the colors on the horizon change, the sun beginning to set. He had decided a month ago at his father's funeral that he would be a man about it. There was no need to go and get himself depressed when they probably wouldn't want him to be.

If only it were that easy.

I could let them go.

Not that I can do it. I won't forget them.

They loved me.

He let out a yawn, taking one last look at the meadow behind him before cracking his knuckles and stretching. He liked the Mesa. The feeling of climbing the cliff face without anything but his gloveless hands and bare feet gave him a little feeling of pride sometimes, not to mention the feeling of adrenaline that coursed through him all the while. He never had to think when he was climbing, never needed to be on his guard, or keep up his facade. It was a great feeling.

Nothing was complicated up here. Down in the village, the people seemed to thrive on complex issues like his. He never could quite understand their concerns until he walked into the village's small drugstore the other day. Seeing all of the frail old women and a few young mothers talk animatedly about how his father died, and why he was in foster care, Cole had done his best to get the gallon of milk he'd been sent for before setting his jaw and marching back out the door in anger.

He needed to get somewhere where no one would care about his past, a place no one would use his pain in a normal conversation. He wouldn't run away, no, but the next time his case worker came to see him Cole would beg her to take him someplace else. If that won't work, then yes, he might consider running away.