2 Separate Topics: The Wound And Fantasy Stories

Wrote a poem the other night, distressed by the very topic of the poem.

The Wound
It’s all I talked about that night:
the gash above your eye
and the way someone else helped you
until you said you were fine.

I didn’t mention to anyone
the sweat at my nape
or the uselessness of my arms
while all I did was wait.

I couldn’t say out loud
that I wanted to go with you
and watch through the night;
there was nothing to do.

Wishing to comfort, to say
anything to be of use
I was as silent as a window
catching both reflections and the view.

And all I said when you went
was “Good luck. It might leave a dent.”

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Now for the actual story. So I went to a YSA activity and everything was going great. Then as things were coming to a close, a new friend of mine and another friend were play-fighting. He claimed that he would pick her up and carry her around the church building; she said she'd like to see him try. So he did pick her up, and somehow accidentally swung her head into the edge of a door. I wasn't there, but heard about it soon afterward. She had a gash above her eye that was bleeding a lot. She claimed it wasn't bad. Meanwhile the other guy was understandably flustered and feeling terrible, but as luck would have it, he was also a paramedic. Imagine having your head bashed by a paramedic. Anyway, he got his stuff from his car and started treating her and called some paramedic friends so that things would be ready by the time they got to the hospital because she needed stitched. She was fine, but it was still nerve-racking thinking about it. I literally couldn't think of much else the rest of the night. And that's how I started composing this poem in my head, feeling that the incident left a mark in me too, just because I felt so useless to help. No one likes to feel useless. And remember the poems not fully non-fiction; I didn't actually say that last line (It was something more like 'Good luck. Hope everything goes well.'

Anyway, now to a completely different topic that I was also thinking about today - The amazingness of sci-fi and fantasy stories, well done ones. I just finished "The Black Cauldron" by Lloyd Alexander and felt that it really portrays well the main character, Taran. Sure the book isn't as literary as some books out there, but thinking about it, most of the best sci-fi and fantasy books that I have read have heroes that are willing to sacrifice for the good of others. As they develop, they seek less for honor than for the well-being of others and they throw away their pride. They become humble. In an increasingly prideful world, I think these lessons are doubly important. Taran, for instance, starts off headstrong and energetic and impetuous. But as he continues to experience things, he begins to become a really humble and honorable character. He seeks not for honor, but gets it for that very reason. Ender from Ender's game saves the world and is then forced into exile, but lives the rest of his life trying to make amends. Percy Jackson from the Percy Jackson series, starts off much like Taran except less energetic and more confused, but throughout the series he learns better to respect and care for others and that he doesn't always have to be the hero. It's cool. Anyway. Thanks for reading, although I'm not sure if anyone else is reading this except for you Madelene. But that's okay, it's like a special e-mail just for you. =)