You tell me it’s late—that I shouldn’t go out. I go anyway.
You tell me it’s not safe—that I’m endangering myself, needlessly. I turn my back on you as I slide into my coat.
I hear you continue talking—but I tune you out. I know what I am. You haven’t a clue. Humans rarely do. Even though I told you that first night we met, trying to be upfront. You thought it was a joke. I let it be.
I am not joke. My people, my kind, are not jokes.
I walk the steaming sidewalk. Rain dribbles relentlessly from the sky in thin constant sheets. I dig my hands deeper into my pockets, clutching at my crystals hidden there.
I have been here too long.
Humans are dissonance. I am tired. My heart, my soul, require the peace of my people, the profound relaxation and connection of our energies twining as a community.
In these boots I wear, I feel as if I am stomping through the world. The noise I make, though thundering in my ears, is nothing compared to the city surrounding me. The raucous noise courses around me, buffeting me impatiently, pounding away at my remaining reserve.
I walk until I am far from him, from his prying eyes, his watchful jealousy. I take a cab to the train station. I settle in for the night. By the time he figures out I am not coming back, I will be gone from this realm.
Morning twinges against the sky as the train comes to the station. I disembark, a lone figure into the cascade of growing quiet. I walk now, removing my boots and leaving them by the road as I continue on. I leave my jacket there with them. Perhaps someone in need will find them. As I no longer need them, I no longer care what happens to them.
I walk through the day, leaving the human roads, flowing over pasture grasses and into woods. I manage to arrive too early at the Gate to my people. I settle in, pressing my back into the trunk of a great ash tree that watches over this entrance.
I do not hear them come for me, so deeply had I slept. I awoke suddenly to find myself surrounded, but by my own kind, my own kin. My beautiful brother wraps me so tightly in his arms I can scarcely breathe –but I hug him back twice as hard. He releases me enough so that I may walk on my own, but not enough to break contact. We cling to one another.
We walk, as a group, in unison towards the Gate.
Warm water engulfs us, welcomes me back into Her gracious embrace. I am Home. I shed my human skin. For a moment it is nothing more than the usual human trash floating—then it dissolves into a scrim of foam on the surface, soon pushed away by the gentle waves.
I am Home. Truly safe now. I sink into the blessed silence of my people. I shall not leave this place again.