Freedom Must Be Earned

The filthy, polluted water licked the dark toes of her boots.Shilo had never learned how to swim. It wasn’t as though the bath tub of her home had really been made for such things. Even so, her over-protective father probably wouldn’t have let her near such a deadly opportunity.
She had returned home to find the solace she’d been seeking completely lacking. She’d brushed her fingers against the mantle of the fireplaces, across the frames of the portraits, across the plastic hanging around her bed. For all the objects inside of the house, it was empty now. Inside there were only memories. She missed them so dearly. In such a short time she had gained so much, and yet lost everything.
“Maybe some people are just fated to have tragedy in their bones…”
Shilo stepped further into the murky water. It left patterns of grime on the leather of her shoes. 
Freedom was nonexistent here. The more she thought about it, the more she comprehended the truth of it. She would always be held back by the limitations of this society, of this world, of her body. She found herself fascinated by what lie beyond all of it. Wherever her parents and godmother had faded off to… certainly it was just as attainable for her. All she had to do was take the plunge. She moved forward steadily now, the slimy water creeping up her limbs until it stirred just below her chin. Before she could ready herself for the shock, the bottom gave way beneath her, and she found herself floundering. She tried to find a foothold, but the bottom, where ever it may have been, was quit out of her reach. She coughed and spluttered as the soiled water entered her mouth. She was beginning to realize a scalpel to the throat would have been much easier. She tried to calm her body, but her limbs struck out against the offending waters, struggling for life, even when the thoughts that inhabited it resented survival so much.
“Survival is not enough.” She screamed, squeezing her eyes shut and willing this to go quickly.
Instead, she found herself being lifted. She could not comprehend this at first. Was this what happened, then? Rise above it all…
But no, she was being hoisted over a shoulder and bodily carried to shore, kicking and thrashing as she was.
“What are you doing!” She demanded.
“Saving your neck.”
“I don’t need your assistance!”
“I quite prefer that you not condemn your body to such a difficult place to reach. I make my living on the dead, and I appreciate you making your corpse slightly more accessible.”
“GraveRobber?!” Shilo demanded.
“Indeed.”
“I’ve never taken zydrate. My corpse is useless to you. Put me down!”
“Oh well, I can’t have you giving anyone else any ideas.”
Shilo looked around. “There is no one here to see!”
“Ah Well.” He said simply. He continued to carry her easily. Shilo crossed her arms in a silent sulk. Finally, back on the streets, he set her down on her feet.
“There you are.” He concluded.
“Gah! The nerve of you.”She stormed, tearing her sopping, filthy and crooked wig off her head. 
It gave her quite a bit of satisfaction when he nearly leapt back, crying out. “Holy flying scalpel sluts!”
She grinned impishly. “Afraid of little me?”
“Lungs and livers! You- Hair- 
She laughed emptily at his outburst. “Yeah.” He composed himself under her laughter, rising to his full height
“So the Opera this evening…” He began.
“Don’t.” She said icily.
“Uh.” He stumbled. “Certainly.” He amended. “Are you…?”
“Am I what?”
“Are you injured?”
She flinched, and then reassessed his point of view. “I… no. unscathed.” She muttered.
“Right then. I’ll be off now. That’s four times I’ve gotten you out of scrapes, now. You should be grateful.”
“This one doesn’t count.” She argued.
“You might come to think differently one day.”
“Jesus. What do you want from me?”
He grinned wickedly. “Maybe you should think about what you’re willing to give.”
She stepped away from him cautiously. 
He shrugged elegantly. “Maybe you should also consider what you’ve got to lose.”
Shilo could feel her body desperately wanting to cave under the sorrow. “Nothing.” She whispered, letting herself falling back heavily against the brick building behind her.
“Are you certain?” 
“What is there anymore?” She breathed.
“Life.”
“Can’t you already see how little I think of that?”
“Life…” GraveRobber said with a flourish of his hand, “Is what you make it.”
Shilo looked up into his eyes and stared at him for a long time. He smiled his charismatic, knowing smile.
“Pardon me. I have customers I must attend to.” And with this he bowed and left her to her own devices.

Finally alone, she found herself with responsibilities she had never experienced before. What should she do? Where should she go? It seemed a waste to her, indeed, to return to her childhood home. Though she could sense a sort of comfort to be found there, she was eager to experience this discomfort of having no constraints.
 “Shilo?” Someone called from behind her. She half turned, but unsurprisingly, did not recognize the person she found. “Oh wow, I never expected to see you here!”
Her brow creased in confusion. “Excuse me?”
“You are the girl from the Genetic Opera, right? Man you were great tonight. I mean, I’ve always been a Blind Mag fan, but I think I’m converting.”
Shilo couldn’t believe her ears. This person, this bizarre androgynous figure believed it was just a show. Her life, her father’s death, it was just entertainment for this pitiful city. Pain flourished in her chest. Was this all there was out here? Was this the world she was so ardent about exploring? It was, she realized now, reviewing her brief encounters before. Previously, it had held mystique and wonder. She zydrate addicts, scalpel sluts and the famous and powerful Largos. But the curtain had fallen, the glamour of the performance had faded. This was all that was left. This filthy city, filled to the brim with wretched people who were too enraptured to even notice their own desecration.
“I’m not an actress.” She said simply, and turned away from them, returning to her dissection of this new revelation. Her mind sifted through everything with fresh eyes. Everyone… every single living soul in this city, were lost.
“No one here is free.” She whispered.

 

As Shilo descended the stairs of the stage, she felt something shaping inside of her, the beginning of an amalgamation of seeded and blossoming emotions. Turning her back on the opera, and especially Rotti’s offer, had filled her with a sense of empowerment. For the first time, her world was in her own hands. She passed by the staring, gaping, awed crowd, and she glanced back, one twice, three times. Not doubting her decision, no, she was admiring it. Admiring her own strength. Marking her progress.
And when she was finally out the opera house doors, she turned away from the many eyes upon her and walked away into the dark night.