Soul On Ice
A Katara story. Pt.1: Burdens
It seems as if it were all a dream as I roll up a snowball to hurl at my brother. The rays of sunlight glisten on the icy surface, and for a brief moment in time, a 100 Year War ceases to exist. No matter how lovely the nighttime fantasy seems to be, I have to wake up eventually.
As the smoke from the infantry ships flirts with winter crystals suspended in the atmosphere, a hellish scene unfolds. With most of our defenses off fighting other skirmishes, vulnerability was an understatement.
The walls made of snow boiled away, life as we knew it evaporated, while the condensation of debauchery proceeded. Being an adolescent didn’t spare me the expense of having a bounty on my head. Cunning allowed the last water bender of The Southern Water Tribe to survive, but the loathing that found her put the village through a wood chipper. My reality is that without my mother, I was forced to grow up too fast.
An Icy Loathing
The wisdom needed to traverse this harsh landscape was no longer available. Forever putting others first, as her last act was very telling of my future. However, her last sacrifice was paired with a burden no child should have to hold.
Given that my father went off to combat the very same threat that showed up at our doorstep, maturity wasn’t an option. My brother, though older, lacked the structure needed to lead himself out of a paper bag. The final note of her voice tells me to flee, as accountability was passed down through bloodshed.
While the eldest trips over his own feet, a sibling’s aloofness was a constant reminder that I must remain diligent. Even with a death surrounding us, my emotions had to be set aside.
Lacking a parent’s leadership, I was my own mentor for a power that solidified my loneliness.
The Mom no one had
Clouds gather as a hail crafted from responsibility hits the ground. Forcing me to constantly step in to make sure my friends didn’t kiss death. From cooking, clothing, to motivational speaker, the obligations rose with the tide.
The daily grind of traveling through different hemispheres knows plenty of victims, and regardless of how many thanks, exhaustion was the leech to my ethos.
Balancing all different types of personalities could drive a man mad, let alone a teenager. Pushing forward is difficult when the scars of tragedy throb when passion is misdirected. A career invested in caring eased the-
crossing serpent-filled lakes
slept in towns filled with vengeful spirits
succumbing to hallucinations while sifting through the blistering heat of the desert
- all while starting off as the opposite of a waterbender master. When I was first discovered, the one to bring peace to all, I could barely ripple a puddle. Even worse, when a teacher was finally located, prejudice greeted me at the front door.
A Misogynist loophole
While arriving at our sister tribe, I had to deal with something that never should come from the people whom I so desperately want to protect.
Hearing that no woman belongs on the battlefield almost ruptured my eardrum. Trauma is not a one-sided coin, and seeing my mother’s final offering let me know she had more balls than any of these men trying to put me down.
To let my gender confine me to a healing role when I fought tooth and nail to stand in this freezing time clock was lunacy.
Getting the most-wanted man is a struggle for any master of liquid to accomplish, but I did it being a novice. Shaming me for events that happened before I was born was not only foolish but dangerous.
To hate or to be so dense to the point that you would risk the survival of all the things you hold dear, including your ridiculous sexism. I will not let you take away my future when life has been thieving me of my joy since preschool.
What childhood?
Most children get the blessing of learning from their mistakes without consequences. The gift of repetition is something that was missing under the Christmas tree. If I fail, humanity will be reduced to ashes.
This boy, whether he wishes to ignore it or not, is the key to saving everyone, and his travel agent would be on the brink of starting high school. Life has done everything in its power to randomize my existence. Beginning with adjusting the current of my perceived destiny in a vicious fashion.
Gone are the days of random play, for even in moments of relaxation, genocide lurks in the shadows. Fate demands a penance founded in youth and nonchalance. I don’t remember what it feels like to not have any responsibility, as angels never have a day off.
Even though my life’s been riddled with despair, I am designed to help those in need, even when their knife pierces my back.
Concentrated Empathy
In truth, my kindness has always been a weakness. Others can exploit my good intentions, but are ever so pleasant in reminding me that dreams are for children. Time and time again, an egg lands on my forehead. Even those who have been nothing but a thorn in my side are not absent of grace. Going so far as to extend a helping hand to the son of the Phoenix King.
For a second, I didn’t see the Fire Nation prince who’s been chasing me across the globe. I didn’t see the spawn of the head demon, who was in line with those responsible for creating my circumstance.
Negating crowd influence and solely going off what the soul feels. But my desire to sympathize with others may lead to my own downfall.
Gullibility at its Finest
Desperation for mentorship has been plaguing my mind, enough to blind me to someone’s actual motives. The charity of guidance can be a Trojan Horse, as no power is needed to Bend the truth.
The death of many roses presented a beautiful funeral. But to see water stripped from blades of grass tipped me over the edge. A woman who knew my story as hers was the same, a refugee. I never would’ve thought that this person would take my hand down to the abyss of my psyche.