Drive My Soul

Colbie Morrow muses about her life, the War against Time, and the price she paid for making her choice. Inspired by Drive My Soul by Lights.

3Likes
0Comments
226Views

1. Drive My Soul

Seems somebody put out the moon

Now the road is a minefield

I can't follow the way she moves

I can't see past the shadows

* * *

I grip at the bathroom sink, leaving bloodied fingerprints in my wake.  It is a constant, much like training and battling the Enemy.

     I watch my stained knuckles turn white under the pressure I put on them.  The blood is dry now, and I'm hypnotized with how it faintly sparkles under the fluorescent light.

     This is me, a descendant of Cronus, I tell myself.  This is the blood I share with the first half-Titan child of Cronus.  The first and last.

     I glance at my reflection in the mirror just above the sink at the girl I've become.

* * *

You make the darkness disappear

I feel found when you stay near

I know where I am when you are here

My way becomes so clear

* * *

I still look the same as I haven't changed much within the past few months.  The light blue eyes looking back at me are those of an old woman, the fear still fresh like she'd seen nightmares of her childhood.  I want to reach out to touch her, the girl staring back at me, when I notice how clean the mirror is.

     Such a trivial thing, housekeeping.  How can it continue in a time of war?  No one really knows how it is done, as the rest of my friends are just as bloody and tired as I am.  I take it for granted that this war is a secret one, one that no normal human being would believe is happening, but it is still a war.

     I want out of this war.  I've wanted out since my first battle.  Taking the Enemy myself was a bad idea, but I wasn't about to leave a symbol of hope to die at the Crooked One's mercy.

* * *

When you're gone

Will I lose control?

You're the only road I know

You show me where to go

Who will drive my soul?

* * *

My face is ruined with grim and blood.  My lower lip is split, cracked, and bleeding in some places.  A trail of dark crimson leads from my left temple to my collarbone, staining the yellow fabric of my T-shirt.  I have cuts on my cheeks and forehead.  Some are still bleeding.  My midnight hair is wild, the neat ponytail I'd put it in is gone.  It is matted with dust, concrete pieces, and blood from a head injury that is likely pouring.

     The one thing that remains untouched is my birthmark.  Such an oddity in the world I live in.  I can no longer bear to see it.  It is my only connection to the Crooked One, and the recent battle wrought.  I try to refrain from looking at my reflection's eyes as I treat my injuries all over my face, arms and hands.

     I am not good at this.  I may have basic first aid, but these wounds don't apply to it.  These injuries are not from an accident, bombing, or any mortal method.

     This is magical damage.  I would give anything to forget where they come from, and the psychological damage caused by the Titan King.

* * *

Seems somebody burned up the signs

I can't expect the hard curves

There's no borders

There are no lines

How can I know where to turn?

* * *

The nightmares, when I am finally able to sleep, are constant.  They remind me of the road I have chosen, how I chose poorly.  They remind me often I should've chosen the God of Time over the Descendant of Jason.  But I want nothing to do with Time.

     The Descendant of Jason, the embodiment of the Crest of Hope, was my saving grace.  Where Cronus wounded me, Jay healed me.  When Cronus would desert me, Jay would stay with me.  Where Cronus damaged my soul, Jay would soothe it.

     Both of them are locked in an endless battle over me.  A battle I never meant to create.  I curse the Oracle that spoke my prophecy.  I curse the day I was born.  And I curse every minute I have to suffer through.  Returning to normal is now no longer an option.  Not since becoming an insomniac.

     Yet, I can't walk away from everything I established in New Olympia.

* * *

You make the streetlights reappear

I feel bright when you stand near

I know what I am when you are here

My place becomes so clear

* * *

I cannot.  It is now my destiny to carry the fate of the world, along with the lives of my friends, on my back.  Just as Atlas would the sky, I am not supposed to let go.  When all else fails, I am supposed to be able to protect them.  I am supposed to handle it when things get rough.  I am supposed to fight Cronus on my own.

     Magic with magic, Persephone, Hera, and Theresa once said to me.  Fight magic with magic.

* * *

When you're gone

Will I lose control?

You're the only road I know

You show me where to go

Who will drive my soul?

* * *

I am too young for this.  I am only eighteen.  I am no ancient sorceress like Medea or Circe.  I am no goddess like Persephone or Hecate.  I am a normal girl.  I am not supposed to know the things I know.  I am not supposed to see the things I see.  I am typical, with ordinary needs and average wants.

     And, right now, I need Jay.  He is my rock, my shelter while I am still in this life.  He inspires me and fascinates me.  He pushes me to try harder.  When it is all said and done, I know he will be there for me.  I could watch him, listen to him, for the rest of eternity.  Too bad fate said different.

* * *

Will I lose control?

You're the only road I know

You show me where to go

Who will drive my soul?

* * *

The door bangs open.  It's Theresa.  The look on her face tells me it's urgent.  I hurry out.  Her voice is frantic, my best friend's speech is rushed.  Her strawberry blond hair is just as matted and dingy as my own, a wild look in her emerald eyes.

     Of course, there is a new problem that arises.  The situation is dire.  This I can expect.  How can it not be, if there isn't a motive behind this new wave of attacks by Cronus?

* * *

Drive my soul

* * *

We gather in the living room, all of us beaten and tired.  Watching the Leader with some sort of desperation, he thinks things over.  I can see his musings fade as he watches us.  Looking every one of us in the eye, he delivers his command.  I meet his gaze.  His dark eyes are full of ghosts that haunt him.  They swirl to create three emotions I know so well.  Seriousness.  Love.  Pride.  He knows I try to keep up with the rest of the team.  This is why I do this.

* * *

When you're gone

Will I lose control?

You're the only road I know

You show me where to go

* * *

My friends head out the door, some limping, some barely shuffling.  I am stopped by Jay.  He continues to look at me with a hardened expression, but his eyes are soft.

     "You don't have to do this, Colbie," he says, setting a hand on my shoulder.

     I shrug it off.  "I have to," I reply.  "You know that."

     He smiles.  "I know," he states.  With that, he follows the team that has been under his direction for years.

     Maybe this is the day we will finally defeat the Enemy.  Maybe this is it. . . .

* * *

When you're gone

Will I lose control?

* * *

I return to the bathroom to finish treating my wounds.  The shimmery blood in the sink and on the countertop is beginning to dry.  It continues to sparkle in the light.  It stands out well against the cool stone.

* * *

You're the only road I know

You show me where to go

* * *

The second hand continues its constant path around the clock.  It is another constant I have grown to hate in the world of mythology.  It is another reminder of my ancestor and how relentless he is in his quest to claim me.  I am just as persistent to stand against him, just as the rest of the team is to lock him away.  We will not cease to act in the war, just as the clock will not stop counting the seconds until the end of our petty mortal lives.

* * *

Who will drive my soul?

Join MovellasFind out what all the buzz is about. Join now to start sharing your creativity and passion
Loading ...