Things Fall Apart

Kobra Kid was lonely, so lonely.
And everything was out of focus now.
His nightly bloodlust had overflown into his days. He could feel his mask slipping away.
There was this hole in his chest, where something once had been. And through this hole, Hatred had rushed like a small god and climbed into his eyes, laughed through his tears, and filtered his life.
What they tell you about the Wasteland, everything they tell you, it's Wrong.
It wasn't youth. It wasn't bright. It wasn't happiness. It wasn't freedom.
It was dry. It was suffocating. It was falling apart.
And everything was Wrong. Everything was Wrong.
Poison, Poison had to pay.
Because it had all been his fault from the start, hadn't it?
Everything was Wrong.
And two Wrongs had never made a Right.
And a split in the middle had never made two Wholes.
Poison had to pay.
Because they just were children who had ran away from Home.
Because their hearts were terribly sick now.
Because he had denied his own brother's identity, torn him away from home, captured his dreams and redreamt them, bottled up the air from his lungs and lighted out his voice, kept his heart locked in a secret place in order to keep it safe.
Because it was in that little wooden box they once found by the seaside.
Because one's life couldn't ever fit into such a small box.
Because he had lost the key.
Poison. Poison. Poison.
It wasn't Poison whom Kobra loved.
It wasn't Poison whom Mikey loved.
And they had never been brothers.
He was lonely, so lonely.
But where was his brother, now?
He had to come back. He had to understand. He had to find the key.
It had to happen again.
Kobra was breathless so breathless.
He only was 23 years old, but his soul had become too old for his bones. He didn't know neither what to do, nor where to go now.
He wore his heart up his throat like a noose slowly strangling him to death. Silence was thick and air had become heavier than himself. He couldn't quite breathe anymore.
He was burning.
He knew there were words that were craving to be said, but they were bigger than himself, and remained tied in shaggy knots in his chest, just like his hair.
He opened his mouth but no sound came.
And his lungs were burning.
He was the Silence, and he was craving to be heard.
Maybe it was because there had never been anyone to listen to what he had to say all along.
Only his brother, but he was gone. And Poison, Poison shut him up.
They had become Strangers.
Kobra wore his Silence like a heavy coat stuck to his bare bones. There was no way out, Silence had became his skin, his definition.
And he got up, with his weak shaky legs that never found stable ground.
It had to happen again.
Poison had to pay.
And then Cola woke up alone with empty arms and empty tears again.
And he knew.
In the middle of the night, Kobra had gently awoken the Girl. She trusted him, like she trusted all the Fabulous Killjoys, like you would trust your family.
He watched her chase the sleep away from her eyes and beckoned her to follow him quietly.
They walked silently through the dark Wasteland. Slowly.
And it wasn't home. And it had never been.
There were only shadows, and Kobra knew the stars weren't any brighter anywhere. It just depended on the surrounding lights. And Kobra knew the stars never did much for them anyways. The world's lights mattered more.
They stopped at the Trash Lords. Kobra was out of breath.
He always was.
And he beheld the blinding lights of Bat City from his dark dune and smiled.
He knew rain was still sweating from everything though the sky was dry. He knew he wore Silence like a skin he couldn't peel off. He knew his features were blurred and he wouldn't be remembered for long after he was gone. He knew his existence was fleeting, and that he never intended to grow old.
And because his life had been ripped away from him, he stood there, naked, with a soul too old for his bones.
And he showed her.
Home.
And Home was beautiful.
He drew it with sticks in the sand so she understood.
And she did.
She had always wondered why Kobra wouldn't speak. But his eyes weren't lit out but filtered through sadness.
She understood.
They should have known.
But he was too silent to matter.
And his legs were as weak as his bird heart, bumping wildly against his ribs as though it was trying to fly away from its bone cage.
But no, hush, stay still.
Bye bye bird.
She could feel it.
He carried her on his back as they climbed down the dune to the outskirts of Bat City.
She opened her eyes wide. It was forbidden, dangerous, exciting.
She was too young to understand.
She trusted her family.
And the Girl had always been here to save. Poison had said so. But Kobra knew none would ever save.
Not this place.
And no, certainly not him.
The Girl didn't like Bat City as much from inside as seen from up the Trash Lords. It was old, rotten, ruined.
It was more beautiful than Kobra could ever remember. The lack of colours didn't matter much because the lights were so bright.
They stopped again to let his bird legs rest. But no matter for how long he laid down, his bird heart never was at peace. He still was out of breath.
It was Dracos who found them before they did.
Kobra didn't fight back.
The Girl still trusted him, then.
But she sensed Something Wrong.
And maybe Kobra Kid wasn't entirely There after all.
They walked through white disinfected buildings, corridors and corridors and corridors. Everything looked the same, bland, colourless. All the lights were too bright.
After a while, they eventually were introduced in a room where a smart slender bald man stood, as though he had been waiting for them.
"Kobra Kid..." He hissed. He looked satisfied, as though this encounter had been expected.
And the Girl started to wonder whether it was.
And because there was neither sticks nor sands, Kobra wrote it on paper.
The Wasteland wasn't big enough for two to love and be loved.
Poison's heart wasn't big enough for two to fit in at the same time.
Kobra smiled one of his rare half-smiles, swift, boundless, as though now mattered more than everything else he had lived before. It went as fast as it came, leaving a burning trail on his skin, where happiness once could have been.
He turned around and walked away, not looking back.
Senseless, careless.
They let him lurk in the Wasteland again.
They knew he wouldn't remain there for long, now.
No matter what it looked like, the Wasteland was as rotten as Battery City.
And that's when the Girl understood that she had been left behind.
That she never had a family.

Notes

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