I despised Helidon City. To many people, the view of the city from the pod was quite spectacular to behold; an expansive white dome glinting in the sunlight, surrounded by vast, red nothingness. To me, it looked more like the angry white head on an overripe pimple, protruding ferociously from inflamed skin. As the pod drew nearer to its destination, I could see the facets of the dome structure; triangular sheets of impenetrable glass held together by a network of white metal and steel. My stomach turned.
I hated Helidon because my former mate had loved it so much. He marvelled at the cleanliness and the advanced technology that had been incorporated into the city itself. Helidon was the first of its kind, and the novelty of being space-aged city never wore off for him. I loved it too. It made me feel modern, sophisticated and superior. Life in Helidon was fast-paced and once I bathed in its mechanical glory. But it all came to an end on the fateful day I discovered with elation I was with child. I returned home from work early to share the news with my beloved only to find him in the shower, while his mistress; a mutual friend, slept peacefully in our bed. I left before either of them saw me.
He searched for me for me for weeks afterwards, demanding to know why I had left. And when I told him what I had seem, he became enraged, claiming that he had come out of the shower to find her there, and was just as surprised as I was; that they had fought viciously and that she had claimed love for him but it was not returned by him. And so he had ended the friendship and kicked her out of our home, refusing to see or speak to her again. I did not believe him. How could I?
In my anger and betrayal I sought out one of the best doctors to terminate the pregnancy; however she informed me that there were not one, but three babes within my womb. I could not bring myself to destroy them all.
I loved fiercely and passionately, and in my pain I discovered I could hate with as much passion. Thus began my loathing of Helidon City. It became an impersonal prison I was forced to live in. I became a wounded wild animal, snapping at the hands that reached out to help. I despised the minimalist way of life which made every interaction seem so sanitised and regulated. My happy memories rotted inside me, spreading poison through my blood like snake venom travelling to the heart from the peripheral wound. I took my broken heart and fled the city.
And now, every time I returned to this city, I became livid. My heart raced and I remembered why I had left, and all that I had lost. I loved him still, my mate. Men were hardly interested in a woman with three children, and the ones that were lost interest after sighting the mateship band I still wore. Dear Goddess, I loved him still.
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araithne's journal
