Silenced (Demigod Story)

Anchors

“So why join Gaea of all people?” I wondered.  I know that instead of asking why she joined I should have been trying to convince her that she should change sides, but I just had to see what was so interesting about the side were everyone dies.  No matter if they were an ally of Gaea, or even the one who won the war.  The chances of them making it through the world Gaea wants would be more slim then a Victoria Secrets model.

“It was cowardice of me to, but she was always right when she spoke to me.  I’m evil and I want vengeance.  So here I am.  I’ve noticed my mistakes and I’m about to fix them,” she admitted, running her fingers awkwardly through her hair.  “If I started hitting you, would anyone come?” she wondered.

I wasn’t sure if she was joking, but I was sure that they would just sit back and watch the show if she started beating me up.  That is what they wanted; they wanted her to kill me.

“No, that would keep them from coming,” I truthfully told her.  I thought about her words.  If I was in her position with only a sister and uninformed about anything or anyone, I would probably join Gaea too.  It is like a boat in a storm.  When the waves start getting rough and the boat wants to stay in that one spot, it has its anchor go down and keep the boat from moving.  It might take a few smaller anchors, or just one big one, but it needs the weight to keep it from going into the storm.

In this case, Tate only had one anchor.  It was a fairly small anchor that Olive represents, but wasn’t enough to keep the boat in place when the storm had gotten to a certain point.  Instead of having the anchor become injured and ruined while the boat was yanked around so the anchor just got caught on many rocks, Tate decided to cut the rope that connected the anchor to the boat so the boat can be tossed, turned and possibly sunk in the storm without taking the anchor down with it.

Do you get what I mean?  Well that is just how I think.  There isn’t a boat that can stay in one place by itself in a storm without an anchor.  My boat has Dylan, Alex, my Dad, friends, and inspiring future generations to keep it from getting caught in the storm.  Sure, the waves are getting rougher and at this rate I just might start drifting, but my anchors were going to keep me in place.

“And you aren’t a coward.  You didn’t have a reason to fight against her, so you just didn’t fight,” I inquired. 

“Will they come if we keep talking like this?” Tate wondered.

I sighed, mostly keeping in my laughter.  “Well of course,” I truthfully told her.  If they thought that she was weakening and joining my side, then of course they would stop the process before she was convinced too much.  “Why do you even want them to come?”

“So I can get out,” she swiftly answered.  If she was nervous, I couldn’t blame her because even though I knew that whoever else was in the room was about ten yards away, I still felt like someone was going to jump out and stab me in the back.

Even though Tate hated my guts, she was actually being a whole lot nicer than usual.  She was like the version of me that had listened to what Gaea had said the whole time.  To see her so eager to get out of a place, I felt like I had to stab myself so she could get out.

“I can see why you wouldn’t want to be in here,” I admitted as I took my blade out of my boot.  The oyster colored handle glimmered, reassuring me that I was doing the right thing.

“Death, that’s the way out.  I should have expected it,” Tate growled.  “On the count of three?”

I put my hands up in a small surrender motion, thinking that she had finally figured out that I had to be killed for her to be able to escape.  Instead I saw that Tate had a knife pointed at herself, meaning that she was getting ready to escape the way that I usually have to escape.

I knew what it felt like to be killed and it is a pain that I would not wish upon anyone even if they were supposed to kill me.  “No, don’t do it.  Do you have experience and joy in killing people?” I asked.  It wasn’t that I was too afraid to kill myself; it was that I thought that it would be a quicker and less painful death for someone with experience to kill me.

“Now what do you think, Dummy?  I’m a mass murderer, of course I do,” she sarcastically told me.  “Why do people underestimate all the time?” she muttered.

“I don’t like accusing people of being murders, but I was kinda sure you would be one,” I admitted.  “Well, could you do me the favor of slitting my throat?  I think I will die quicker if somebody else does it.”

Movement started again and I looked over to see that it was in fact James walking out from the darkness of the shadows.