The other night

OTHER

Every sweet has its sour, every evil its good.

-Ralph Waldo Emerson

2010 Breaux Bridge, Louisiana

A bolt of lightning shot through the sky, shattering its tranquility as another bolt—the more adventurous of the two—struck out separately, her fingers stretching wider, longer, toward the ground, targeting the thick canopy of trees below. Then, with unfettered superiority, she chose her target, sparks of reddish-orange flames shooting out into the night as she met the ground.

Beneath the two sister's temperament, a figure moved through the night with no regard for their power; fear was not an emotion suffered, only hunger, the need to feast…

SYDNEY

The clouds surrendered fat drops of rain and pounded the wetlands as claps of thunder rumbled loudly, voicing exultation within the chaos. Beneath the spectacular moodiness, the moisture intermingled with the musty scent of the wetlands, creating a pungent, yet almost addictive fragrance. With a small inhalation of the familiar aroma, I shifted closer to the edge of the creek. I'd sought it out, needing to understand this edge of death, the insanity it built within my mind, and as I peered at the water, I caught sight of a small limb battling to stay afloat within the chaos all around it.

With curiosity, I watched its fight, its tenacious will to survive. Why? I wondered. Why fight so hard only to wash up on a sandbar further down the creek? There, the limb would only lay beneath the blistering rays of the sun for endless days. Hour by hour, it would shed what remained of its life. Its leaves, turning brown and crisp, until finally, with the slightest provocation from the wind, they would release, floating through the air until they landed, feet, yards—possibly even miles away, only to become mulch for future life. Was that what life was all about? Its purpose? To fight to survive, and then eventually wither and die? If that was the design of something alive, then what was the intent for something...other?

I shook my head, again feeling the pull to just toss myself over the bank and find out if I truly was immortal. I'd always known I was different, but I'd had no idea I was this different! Immortal. Really? How was that even possible? I mean, were there others like me out there? I couldn't possibly be the only one, could I? Surely others of my kind—whatever kind of immortal I was—existed? I wasn't a vampire, I knew that much—I didn't have fangs and I didn't need blood to exist, so I could mark that one, off. I hadn't changed into anything with scales or fur yet either, so I figured I was safe to mark that one off too. Maybe a Superhero? Nah, too afraid of heights. Angel? Demon? Don't be absurd. So, what the hell else was there? I'd poked, prodded, and begged for an answer, but I remained ignorant of what I was. Maybe I'd remained that way because no one else knew how to label me either. I'd never thought much of my ancestry, but I'd believed I was at least human—yet...I'd been told differently.

Slowly drawing my eyes away from the creek's churning madness, I noted the increase in the wind. The moisture it spat at me stung my face, and not much a fan of its aggression, I turned to make my way back through the dense growth of trees.

Restless, my gaze took in my surroundings as I walked. I'd felt the need deep in my bones the moment I'd opened my eyes this morning to explore the wetlands behind my home, though I couldn't help but wonder why now. Nevertheless, I still felt the need, as if my soul was looking for something.