Chapter 6: Omari’s Heart, a Flashback
For as long as he could remember, the two of them had been inseparable. Omari and Skye went hand in hand such as night and day, their bond was something that had been established in their early years of hardship, solidified only through the struggles the both of them had survived. Much like Emil, Skye and Omari were once wanders. Everrmore was not the place they learned to call home until later in their lives.
12 Years Ago
“Skye, this way!” Omari lead Skye by the hand as they raced throughout the city slums in the pouring rain. It was a dark night. The only illumination came from a half-covered moon that hung lazily in the sky and the stars that surrounded it. Their feet tracked mud as their steps buried deep into the moist dirt. Omari was unsure of how many people were following him, and he didn’t care. All that mattered was Skye’s safety, for she was all that he had left. “Hold on tight!” Omari said as he clenched her hand tighter. Between the moisture of the rain and the sweat between their grasp, Omari was paranoid of her falling behind. He turned back and saw the face of his terrified sister looking to him to guide her in a world he had grown to detest. Her hazel eyes shook as she bobbed and weaved in tandem with her brother’s movements.
Omari was too fast for her. He was older, stronger, and more developed. One thing Skye admired about her older brother was his resourcefulness, even in trying times. That is why she chose to come, rather than be left alone. In her mind, she thought it was a choice, but Omari was bound to take her either way. Skye was far too young to be out by herself on a night like this. The slums were vicious and the people were cruel. At the tender age of nine, Skye knew not of the world’s inequities, and her brother would do his best to keep it that way. While Skye did not yet know the terrors of men, she did know the horrors of being alone, the harsh reality of living in the elements, and the desperation that came with the weight of perpetual hunger. That was why they were out there. A food run for Skye’s grumbling tummy. Food was hard to come by, only through scraps and charity when they were lucky. Omari hated to see his sister suffer. He could handle the hunger. It was something he learned to deal with over time. Whenever they managed to get food, he would always make sure she was satisfied before he had his fill, because he knew that was the right thing to do. It always made him feel inadequate when things were less than favorable for her. For him, he could understand, but for Skye, he knew she deserved better than what the world currently offered her.
“You kids come back here!” A voice bent the corner and slammed against Omari’s ear drums as he continued to run. The shanty town of an alley they ran through was mainly constructed from faulty iron and rusty scraps. It was far from ideal, but at least they blended in there, to an extent. Omari had no intention of stopping but as he looked back at his sister, he realized that the bread she held onto was slowly slipping from her hands. Just a little bit longer, Skye. Just until we shake’em, Omari thought to himself as his gaze reflected back at him from his sister’s pupils. Skye was determined to hold up her end of the deal, but Omari knew her physical body had its limits. He could go faster, but he knew that her body wouldn’t be able to keep up. Even as they ran, he was virtually pulling her along. Usually they weren’t this persistent. On the rare occasion when Omari did have to resort to stealing, if his execution wasn’t clean, he would lose them in the chase relatively quick. With his sister around, his agility was more than cut in half. Coupled with the weather, Omari knew their options would be limited before their run. That’s why another plan of action was devised in case things didn’t go as planned. If things were to go south, she was to leave him while he remained as the diversion. Skye was to hide somewhere safe and he would find her afterwards. It wasn’t the best of ideas. If possible, neither Skye nor Omari would ever embark on such a scenario if it could be helped. Unfortunately, fate would have it that their luck was pitted against them.
As Skye followed in her brother’s footsteps, her leg snagged between a clump of mud, causing her to tumble to the ground. On her descent, Skye released her hand from her brother’s and shielded their meal as she braced for the inevitable impact. Barreling over the bread, her body slid across the gravel and mud that filled the city streets. Her face took the brunt of the impact, leaving her with a bruised cheek that scuffed against dirty debris that littered the slums.
“Skye!” Omari yelled as he ran to her. “Skye, get up!” As Omari tended to his sister, his eyes shuffled back and forth from both her and the man who pursued them. He was gaining ground on them rapidly, ignoring whatever nature threw at him all for the sake of a single loaf of bread. Damn it, we’re out of time. Omari stood to his feet and hovered over Skye as she got up. Without saying a word, she ran off while her brother stood guard. To the best of her ability, Skye tried not to cry, reminding herself that her brother was the strongest person that she knew. She had to be safe and she had to protect the bread. That was her only concern now. He’d be back and everything would be okay. Omari had always told her not to worry about him, that it should be the other way around. Skye knew this, but still, it was hard for her to not let her mind wander.
***
“I’m no thief!” Omari exclaimed as he faced off against the store owner.
“Bullshit!” the enraged man said as he took a swing at Omari, who backed away but didn’t fire back, adamant to say his piece and defuse the situation. “You’re a liar! You and those other thugs have been coming around for weeks now, robbing me blind when I pack up for the day!” Omari was half the man’s height. Still being a child himself, it was unruly for a grown man to swing at him in the public eye, but in Omari’s case, no one seemed to care. It was all too typical in the slums. If people were watching, it was behind the false comfort of their shacks. More than likely, like any other form of commotion, it was ignored.
“My sister, she’s hungry. We’re just trying to survive!” Omari put his hands in front of him, signaling that he meant no harm.
“Well I am, too! Did you ever think about that?” The tears that fell from Heaven began to fall harder as the angels watched poignantly from above. The old man was right. He did have to make a living. He had every right to live, just like Omari and Skye.
“I’m sorry.”
“No you’re not! No you’re not!” the store owner said as he marched up to Omari and waved his finger at him. “If you’re sorry, then call that little black bitch over here and give me back my fucking food! You and those other hoodlums have been robbing me blind week after week, so don’t you dare look me in the eye and lie to me, boy!” The store owner was fuming, but Omari tried his best to stay calm in the midst of the potentially dangerous situation.
“My sister and I aren’t with them, I swear. It’s just me and her out here. We’re not with a gang or anything. It’s just us. Please, let me go and we’ll never steal from you again. I’ll even leave you some money whenever I get the chance to pay you back. Just let me go find her. She’s young and it’s dangerous out he--”
“Bullshit! I’ve heard this shit a thousand times already. If you and you’re sister are out here alone, why aren’t you at the orphanage, huh? Because you’re fucking thieves, that’s why. Just like the rest of ‘em!” Omari remained silent in wake of the old man’s statement. While he wanted to reason with the store owner, he knew his chances of talking him down were slim to none. Omari’s clothes were tattered and dirty, his face caked with filth from hard times. He looked anything but decent, indiscriminable from the thugs that were the bane of the store owner’s existence. In a perfect world, he would have loved to stay at an orphanage, but Omari’s world was far from perfect. It would be nice to have a soft bed to lay on and other kids to talk to. It would be euphoric to have the weight of the world lifted from his shoulders, if only for a moment. Skye would be safe, and he would be free to finally breathe, knowing that they would be provided for. It was ideal, a pipedream that Omari had discarded long ago.
As the rain fell upon Omari’s fac
e, he reflected on whether or not he should thank the old man or curse him for reminding him of his situation. With the way they treated Abnormals, even the safest of places was a death trap. Although young, Omari had come to terms with his powers for the most part. Skye was still coming into her own, however. When she was over-stimulated, her hands began to glow, offsetting her developing healing abilities. Some nights while she dreamed, she would have vivid visions that were so real to her that they teetered on the verge of reality. On others, massive headaches plagued her at the most inconvenient of times. Until she learned to control it, it was too risky to be taken in. In Skye’s case, they would probably label her a demon or possessed. Anything to justify the means to an end. That is why people were to be avoided. They simply wouldn’t understand.
“I can’t give you back that bread, I’m sorry,” Omari said as he remained immobile in front the old man.
“Like hell, you’ll be!” The enraged old man hocked as he cleared his throat and spat his phlegm in Omari’s eyes before striking him in the face. The smell of alcohol wisped past his nose while the old man mumbled obscenities and continued to pelt Omari with his fist. If people were watching, by now they would have certainly turned away. Omari fell to the ground, face first in the mud and arms covering his vital organs as the old man continued his assault. At any given moment, Omari could have stopped the old man’s assault and started one of his own, but he chose to remain still. As Omari said before, he wasn’t a thief. If he had no money to give, the least he could do was pay with sacrifice.
Blow after blow, kick after kick, Omari endured as the drunk aimed for his ribs with his rugged boots. Silently, Omari lay still as the old man’s foot dug repeatedly in the same spot, each kick more excruciating then the one before. Omari didn’t yell, nor did he cry. He refused to display any emotion. His face was set like stone as he focused on the falling rain that fell around him. The serene sound granted him an escape from the brutality he needlessly suffered at his own expense. A quick stab to the leg and it all would have been over. The pocket knife Omari hid in his shorts begged to be used, but Omari denied the urge. Stabbing the man would cause more trouble than he was already in. Instead of retaliating, he let his body drift with the rain while his beating continued.
Omari’s eyes dully watched as the dew from Heaven crashed into the mud, causing ripples in the puddle where his face rested. Their individual splatters freckled his cheek. The coolness of the water nursed his wounds. Omari closed his eyes as the sound of the pouring rain and thunder coaxed him away from his current Hell. It was Skye he saw when he closed his eyes. It was her smiling at him with the widest smile she could possibly manage. Omari never understood how she managed to smile despite their situation. Perhaps it was because it was all that she knew. It could be Hell on Earth, but as long as she had him, her smile would shine brighter than any star, and thus he would smile too. He had to because her smile was the only thing that kept him going.
“Worthless, piece of shit!” the old man slurred as he gave wind to his final kick against Omari’s torso. Omari laid still, crumpled in the fetal position as the man spat on him again before hobbling off.
He was alone, even with the people that cracked their doors and watched from afar. Brute force thrived in the slums and was used by both the people and the law.
Slowly, Omari stood to his feet and stared back at the single door that remained open. A woman hid between the crack with peering eyes and nothing more. Just like the rest of them, he knew she wasn’t going to intervene. To her, he was just another lost soul. As his eyes met hers, a bolt of lightning gave an unholy light to Omari’s dark face. Unsure of what to do, the lady slammed her door shut, leaving any connection that they’d had outside with the elements.
“Tch,”Omari grunted as he brushed the mud and debris from his clothing. “I’m not worthless,” he mumbled. “I’m anything but.” Omari barreled his injured side as he began to search for his hiding sister. As he walked, Omari thought to call out for her but realized that his call would defeat the purpose of her hiding. The night was dangerous. It was better for him to find her well hidden and safe rather than leave it to chance.
Instead, Omari walked through the alleys of the slums accompanied only by the unique silence that came with the falling rain. She couldn’t have gone far, Omari thought as he sluggishly walked the streets. He knew Skye was nearby. It was better for her to remain close in times like these. Close but out of sight.
High and low Omari searched for her until he finally found her underneath the fallen metal plating a malformed house. At least she found shelter for the night, Omari thought as he smiled at the sight of her. Skye was sitting with her knees to her chest beneath the roofing. Under her, there was an old cloth she had spread out so where they sat, they’d be dry. It wasn’t much, but it’d have to do. Skye looked back at her brother with an expecting smile, happy to see him safe, the bread nestled between her arms. “Yo,” Omari said as he ducked down and slipped underneath the rusted crawl space.
“I ate the dirty part, because I was the one who fell,” Skye said sheepishly as she handed Omari his half of the soggy bread. Omari resentfully grabbed at it and took his seat beside her.
“You didn’t have to.”
“I know,” Skye said with a smile. “I wanted to.”
“Thanks.” Omari smiled at his sister again, but this time the light of the moon hit his cheek. The gash he tried to conceal on his face was fully visible now, crusted over with dried mud and flaked blood.
“You’re hurt!” The light in Skye’s eyes sharpened at the sight of her brother’s injury. Skye raised her hand to Omari’s cheek but he gently grabbed her wrist before she could touch his face.
“Don’t. Save your strength. You know it takes a lot out of you. You’ll burn through what you just ate…I’ll be fine by morning, I promise.” The tension from holding his right hand parallel to his head made Omari’s ribs scream in pain, causing him to wince as he held his position. Skye retracted her hand as her smile dissipated and replaced it with a soberness far beyond her years.
“Did you…hurt him?” she asked as she directed her gaze at the falling rain outside of their makeshift tent. Omari looked to her, distraught by the question of his younger sister. For a second he forgot that Skye had a unique view of the world; an unparalleled sense of empathy. Through her eyes, whenever she focused, she could see the imprint of the emotions around her. They were like colors that bled through the individual, an aura that was always twisting and changing depending on the heart’s cry. No matter how hard he tried to hide it, Omari’s sadness leaked from him, polluting Skye’s atmosphere.
“No. It was us who stole from him...it wouldn’t have been right,” Omari responded before returning his eyes to the contraband he held in his soiled hands. He was playing with it. Slowly twirling it between his fingertips as his weary eyes measured the merits of his coming meal. His appetite had left him, though his body craved the sustenance. As he eyed his meal, a warm embrace engulfed him even though his body was soaked from the rain.
“Don’t be sad,” Skye said as she squeezed him tight. “Things will get better.”
“Yeah, I know,” Omari whispered as he looked to Skye, who was now resting her head on his shoulder. As Skye’s hands held steadfast around him, he felt the aches and pains he harbored slowly begin to melt away. It was Skye and her embrace. Through her touch, she willingly released a small portion of her energy to nurse her wounded brother. “Skye…”
Skye lifted her head from her brother’s shoulder, seemingly confused at her brother’s remark. “What?” Omari studied the gleam in her eyes as she looked to him. They were innocent and unassuming. Omari knew she meant no harm with her actions. She simply wanted to help as much as possible.
“Nothing.”
“Don’t laugh. You know thunderstorms scare me!”
“Yeah, I know…it’ll be okay. Get some sleep.” Skye nestled her head into her brother’s shoulder once more before
closing her eyes. He could tell she was genuinely tired. A long day on a young body can tear down even the strongest of souls. Skye leaking her energy would tire her out more so. He knew her plan, but he wasn’t going to detest it if it gave her peace of mind. Ever since her powers began to manifest, lighting and thunder had been the least of her fears. As Omari watched the rain fall from their tent, his mind ran blank as he struggled to remember the last moment that storms had actually been an issue for her. A chuckle slipped from his lips when he realized it was at least two years ago. Clever. Omari’s smile widened further at the revelation that his side no longer bothered him. She’s a sneaky one, Omari thought as he turned his head to look at his sister who was now sleeping peacefully. Don’t worry, Skye. You’re right…things will get better. I promise. Just hang in there a little bit longer.
Chapter 7: Omari’s Heart Part Two-- A Prayer in the Wind
12 Years Ago
Before he knew it, the rain stopped and it was morning. As Skye gently slept, Omari kept watch periodically through the night, fighting the fatigue that constantly clawed at his back. But alas, it was sunrise. From the opening of their makeshift home, Omari saw the beams of soft sunlight graze the rooftops of the slums. There was comfort in the light. At least he knew people would be around—the good kind. Soon the slums would come alive just like he saw everyday for as long as he could remember. The city, brimming with energy while people were making their way through life.
“Skye.” Omari nudged his sister gently, waking her from her sound slumber. “Sleep okay? It’s morning now.”
“Already?” Skye sleepily responded as she sat up from her brother and rubbed her eyes.
“Gloves,” Omari said dully. “Don’t forget to put them on before the people show up. Hand me the cup while you’re at it.”
All Things Eternal (Book 2) Page 5
