Clancy posted many letters on dmaorg.info but there are many entries that never left his journal.
What if he revealed the missing parts of his story ?
Only then could we discovered the role Tyler has played in his life.
~This is a fanfic ((I thin...
I remember clearly what Tyler first said to me, when we knew it had worked. I like to keep track of his words, like a precious belonging I can retain if we are ever separated again. Like a friend in my pocket, along with Ned and my beanie.
"You learn fast, kiddo."
"I'm sorry?"
"The songwriting. The secret message, SOS. Well, the melody could get better, and longer too. But you'll get to it."
"Thanks, I guess."
"Don't shrug! I'm almost offended by it. I mean, if you continue like that, you're gonna get better than me. You are like a pet cheetah."
"A pet cheetah? Who would get a pet cheetah really?"
"I would. I'd name it Jason Statham."
"Very funny. But if I am a pet cheetah, what are you?"
"A vulture."
Two days Tyler has guided me, and now we reached a creek where we rejoined the Banditos. They felt more like legends before my eyes that they had in my imagination.
Just as if we were in a medieval ceremony, they dubbed me by strapping yellow tape on both my shoulders. Each one of them wore that bright color along their camo clothes.
"They can't see it." one said simply, his eyes emerging from the bandana that covered his nose and mouth.
I got to see Trench through a kaleidoscope.
It didn't seem as gloomy, lonely and scary as the last time, perhaps thanks to the dancing torches the Banditos held before me. Colors sprung everywhere to meet my sight. Exquisite flowers unfolded as the fire delicately brushed the landscape. I didn't know where they were taking us. But I was not scared. The light and the heat, all around me, plunged me in a safe cocoon.
Now, I wish I could immortalize my escape, never to forget it, but I am too scared that someone would find my writings and seal the way forever. I'm still shrugging under the icy coat of Dema and I don't feel like I could ever leave it. I don't feel like I could never return. And that still keeps me awake at the edge of the night, when the others are sleeping.
How could I think of Dema when this home is so different? Many tents spring from the floor, encompassing what seems to be the center of the camp: a burnt down car. I wonder if it was Tyler's car. I wonder how the Banditos could have dragged it up here. I wonder if this is a remembrance of defeat or a defiance to the Bishops' tyranny. I have so many questions to ask, but I held them back as I tried to savor every feeling of my arrival.
The second we reached the car, the Bandito leading us with his face covered up sat behind a set of drums. Tyler smiled as I had never seen him smile before. And he started to rap.
The cloak of night smeared down on the camp but the light protected us from its presence.
Tyler's voice. The beat shaking through my heart. The burning feeling overwhelming my throat. Dragons. We were dragons, flying above the world and spitting out the fire from our entrails. Dragons.
At some point, another Bandito with a pointed beard tapped my shoulder as I sat, hypnotized.
"Welcome to Trench." he said.
These words warmed my heart more than all their fire.
Cover me.
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