Shorties

The Borderline

The borderline

 

“Have you ever wondered what’s on the other side??”

   He studies my face, almost as if searching for a reason behind the question. Then he looks out to the horizon. The sun casts an embellishing light on the great walls of our confinement.

   “Should we escape?” he asks absently, not averting his gaze from the landscape ahead. We’re sitting on a rooftop, which allows us to see the vast fields of green grass behind the barricades.

   “How? The gates are guarded,” I say, somewhat intrigued by the idea. He glances at me. For a second, I can see the faint hint of a smile on his lips, covered by the shadows of the tall buildings that surround us.

   “We’ll just wipe ’em out,” he replies.

   “Oh.” I keep watching him silently as a few seconds pass. “You mean kill them?”

His gaze falters, slightly unease at the word. I know that him avoiding my question, is his answer. I rise quickly to my feet, straighten myself and curl my fingers into fists. He won’t look at me. Glaring down at him, I relent as I realize that there’s no point in condemning him; he’s right. It’s the only way. I’ve had a gnawing need to get away from this cage of memories for a long time. A sudden boldness overcomes me and I step closer toward him. I nudge his shoulder. “Let’s do it.”

   He turns his head to meet my vigorous eyes. And then he nods.

 

Stunned, I watch the alleged guards as they flutter around. “They’re butterflies?” I ask incredulously. He observes them too, a pondering look crossing his features.

   “Better for us. It’ll be easy taking them out,” he finally replies.

    “Yeah, but these are at least ten times bigger than regular ones.”

    He shrugs at that. We start walking again, closing the distance between us and them. Then, I get to witness a spectacular show take place before me. He wields his dagger like a sword, causing blood to spatter in a sprinkler of crimson. It’s beautiful yet terrifying, leaving me dazed. When he’s done, he turns around and grins at me. I exhale a breath of relief. We’re free.

 

We walk the roads of the uncharted land. My hand is in his, tightly secured. We’re smiling. “This feels liberating” he says. “Would I have known the border was that easy to cross, I would’ve done it a long time ago.”

   I nod in agreement. As a question lingers in my head, I furrow my brows. “Why do they call it the border of sanity?”

   “I don’t know.”

   I think about it for a while. “Were we insane?”

   He doesn’t respond at first but I can see the frown in his face. He flashes me an encouraging smile. “It doesn’t matter now. We crossed the border – we escaped – didn’t we?”

   Contemplating it, I let there be a pause before I answer. I sigh and look out the horizon, now seemingly within our grasp.

   “Yeah. I guess we did.”