So I’ve heard you want to hear a story and I shall gladly tell you one. I must say that this must be the funniest tale that I’ve ever heard. So I suggest you should have a napkin with you because I assure you that you’ll laugh so hard, you’ll tear up a little or maybe a lot. Well then, I suggest we start the story so we’ll find out, shall we?
This story happened a long, long time ago. A hundred or perhaps a thousand year. At that time, humans can only see during the day and turn blind at night. Well, not really. You see, their only source of light is the bright warm radiance coming from the grace of Helios, the God of sun. So as the night approaches, when the sun hides its glow, people would be enveloped by nothing but cold and darkness. A lot of people suffer during the night especially the old, the sick, and the children. Every night, the bone-chilling air seeps into their skin, and as a desperate attempt, they hug themselves trying to give their bodies a little warmth. But some, unable to bear the cold, die. And when dawn breaks— as the sun once again covers the world with its warmth and luminescence— their loved ones will find their curled corpse, frozen by the cold.
But they know. Oh they know! That there’s a way to illuminate the world and to prevent people from dying every time the dusk comes by.
At the Mountain of Thessaly, where the Olympus is erected, the abode of the Gods, they see the sacred place glowing during nightfall. One day, a man arrives to Olympus asking for some light and warmth.
“A little flare will do, please, my son is the only family I’ve got. My wife and my three other children are already taken by Hades.” he pleads. “Please, I beg of you.”
But the Gods are cruel. He is sent home only to find his son already taken by Hades. His heart full of anger— livid at the Gods for their selfishness, and full of anguish, having no reason to live— he hangs himself.
A young man, who has hair as gold as the sun and has deep blue eyes as azure as the kingdom of Poseidon, has heard the sufferings and painful life of the man who was known as ‘The Foolish Man Who Dared to Ask More from the Gods’. The young man feels enraged at the Gods, and pity for the man.
He was asking for a flare, just a small flare for his son, but they denied him thus leading to his and his son’s death. The young man is livid for the greediness of the gods. Gods exist to help them, aren’t they? To guide them...to fight for them. And what did they do? They abandon them. Slowly killing them.
Thus, the young man has come up with an idea. An outrageously mad idea. But this is the only way. He has to do it.
He will steal from the Gods.
--
That night, he breaks to Olympus. With only a strong will as his weapon, he enters the abode of the Gods. He doesn’t know how he gets inside of the divine palace, but he does and that was the first most important part. The second most important is how he would steal the flare.
When he set his foot to the palace’s floor, he’s momentarily blinded by the sudden brightness inside. There’s warmth that envelops his skin. So warm he can’t help himself but release a contented sigh. He wants to stay and savour the moment but he knows he can’t. He has a mission.
He finds a torch. He finds a lot of torches on the big corridors of the palace. Due to his innocence, he tries to gather the light on his arms but as soon as his fingertips touches the light, he feels an excruciating pain that he nearly yelp. Lucky him, he catches himself before he could utter a sound. Since ‘gathering the light in his arms’ is unfortunately, a terrible impossible idea, he decides to hold the piece of wood—the torch— instead.
Why he didn’t think about it first? He doesn’t know.
Now the last and the most important— thus making it the hardest— part is how he would get out with the torch with him, unnoticed.
Once or twice, he is nearly caught by the guards and Hephaestus, the God of fire, himself. But it seems that his luck is abundant today and he doesn’t get caught. He thought that he can do this. That he could get away with this.
He thought wrong.
Three steps.
Only three steps and he could get out of there and share the light to the people. Three steps and he could stop their misery. Three steps and he could stop the pain that people endure whenever their loved ones passed away from the cold breeze the night brings. Three steps.
But it seems that his luck has run out.
A loud booming voice echoes through the palace’ corridors. So loud he feels the ground shook. A loud clap of thunder is heard outside followed by sharp bright lightning and a raging storm quickly covering the town at the heel of the mountain.
The town is swiftly flooded and flushed by the hard rain.
He turns around and sees the outraged face of Zeus, the ruler of the Gods, glaring at him. His teeth, gritting, and his eyes flashing menacingly. He’s holding a staff and grips it like he wants to break it in half.
“How dare you, mere human, steal from me!” he snarls at him. Eyes nearly red from anger.
The young man is suffocating in fear. He can’t speak. He can’t move. He feels that he wants to be swallowed by the floor just to avoid the wrathful God’s glare. He wants to cry but he can’t. He can’t do anything but feel scared. He is shook to the bones.
But he needs the light.
So he gathers all the strength that surprisingly, he still has, grips the torch and tries to run to the doors but before he could reach it, on the very last step, he felt something struck him—entered him? —, rendering him unbalanced, but the most devastating thing is when he lost his grip on the torch and sees its bright flare slowly diminishing until it’s gone, and then his body meets the floor.
‘Am I dead?’ he asks himself.
Quickly, he tries to get up and swiftly scanned his body for injuries—for blood, for missing limbs, for something different—but he finds none so he flees out of the palace. Feet slipping on wet ground, heart pounding on his ears, he runs.
Still, he hears Zeus’ final words to him loud and clear as if he is uttering it beside him.
‘As atonement for your covetous deed, you will be greatly punished. Your life from this age, passed to your reincarnations, will be filled with anguish, misery and hopelessness.’
He has been cursed.
He covers his ears trying to block out the words but it didn’t do anything. The voice is inside his head laughing maniacally as he runs far away from the sacred mountain.
--
“Mom, I ca- can’t sleep. Can you t-tell me a story?” the young boy whispers to his mother as his teeth gritted and his body shook by the cold breeze. His mom’s embrace tightens to provide him some warmth.
“Okay, dear.” his mom smiles. “Once upon a time, in a deep magical forest called the Sleeping Forest, there was a princess.” she starts.
“A pri-princess?”
“Yes, a princess. With a long soft black hair as dark as the night, a sweet rosy lips as red as an apple, a skin as fair as the sky. On a bed of flowers she lay, under the gods’ protection, she was put into eternal slumber. His beauty and kindness preserve by the Gods.” she continues.
“They say there is but one way for the princess to open her eyes and see the world. However, no one has ever gotten near enough to do it or to even know if she really exists.”
--
The young man is awoken by the singing birds and the ray of sun caressing his face. He gently stands up and holds his head in pain. The flashes of the event last night make his legs tremble. His knees go weak so he settled down and sits on the grass.
He weeps as he remembers the scene that he saw when he climbed down the mountain.
He saw nothing but water.
The town is wiped out by the storm along with all of its inhabitants. The men, women, children, all gone, all drowned.
And it’s all his fault.
Now my friends, isn’t that amusing? All he wants is to help the people, to prevent people from dying, to provide a little warmth during the night but what happened? He caused their deaths. He is the worst!
He sobs, he cries, he weeps. He mourns their deaths. His heart heavy with pain and guilt. He cries so much that after some time he couldn’t produce any more tears, and only his dry sobs are heard. He looks at his hands—the hands of a thief and a ‘murderer’!—and finds some grass stuck between his fingers. His sobs went slower as he stared at it. It’s bright.
The grass is too bright as if it’s—glowing.
“What is this? And where am I?” he whispers to himself.
He slowly stands up and gapes on what he saw. The forest is glowing. Glowing! The trees, the grass, the flowers, everything is glowing.
How marvellous! Truly a sight to behold!
“What is this place?” he asks himself in awe.
After some time, he collects himself and decides to explore the ‘glowing forest’. Everything in the forest looks...magical. It’s as if he’s dreaming. ‘Am I in a some sort of a holy paradise?’ he ponders. ‘But that’s impossible. I can’t be here! I’m cursed. I’m a-‘
‘Murderer!’ his mind screeches.
He’s turning back when something caught his eyes. He sees something moves on the bush. Curiosity gets to him and he cautiously walks near to it. As he arrives to the other side of the bush, he sees a squirrel quickly running away from him. His eyes following its movement until it lead him to a-
A cradle.
And on the cradle made of flowers, there lays a young girl.
‘The princess!’ his mind shrills. ‘It can’t be true. The tale of the princess in slumber is true? The Sleeping Forest is real?!.’
The young man strolls near the bed and slowly lifts his fingers to touch the princess but he stops mid-air and withdraws it.
‘How dare I even think to touch the princess!’ he scolds himself. ‘My hands are filthy, tainted, impure! I’m a cursed person. I’m a murderer!’
Sadly, he walks away from the cradle and watches it from a distance.
--
As his mother told him, the princess is indeed beautiful. Her face looks smooth, and there’s a calm and peaceful expression on her face.
An epitome of purity and innocence.
Immaculate.
Untainted.
And he’s the complete opposite.
--
Every day, the ‘cursed young man’ watches her. Guarded her—even though he knows that he’s the danger himself—and admiring her beauty. Settling near her bed, every night, he wonders if one day the princess would open her eyes, and every morning he would wake up disappointed.
Sometimes, he talks to her. Telling her stories about his family, his mother, his childhood. And he doesn’t even know if the princess could hear him. But still, he tells her stories. His adventures, his first heartbreak—his father’s death—and mostly all the happy memories he has.
He’s talking about the day his mother died when he sees the tears flowing from the princess’ eyes. And he feels happy and pained to see them.
Happy—because there’s a chance that she could hear him—pained—because the princess’ sorrow is his agony.
“You can hear me, can’t you?” the ‘cursed thief’ asks. The princess’ tears continued to flow on her cheeks. “Please, don’t cry.” You, crying, break my heart.
And the tears slowly stop.
“If you can hear me, princess, I just want you to know that I know how lonely you are these past few years. Don’t worry, I’ll keep you company. I will never leave you. You’ll never be alone again, princess. I’ll always be there for you as long as you have me. I will be with you ‘till the end of the line.” He promises.
And the lips of the princess slowly curves into a small smile. It’s brief but he saw it.
And it’s the most beautiful thing he has ever seen in his life.
--
Days turn into weeks. Weeks turn into months. Months turn into years.
The princess is still asleep yet-
He never leaves her. Determined to keep his promise until the end of his cursed life.
--
One day, he dreams. He dreams about his mother telling him the story of the princess in the Sleeping Forest.
“—there is but one way for the princess to open her eyes and see the world. However, no one has ever gotten near enough to do it or to even know if she really exists.”
“Wh-what’s should I do to awaken the princess, ma.”
“What should you do?” his mom teases him.
“Yes, ma. What should I do to wake the princess?” his eyes and voice firm and determined. His mom chuckles at her son’s adorable determination.
“They say a true love’s kiss will wake her up but-“
--
The ‘cursed thief’ jerks awake by a squirrel nuzzling his cheek. The squirrel sprints, surprised by the sudden movement.
‘That’s it!’ he exclaims. ‘Now I remember. The way to break the curse.’
A true love’s kiss.
The young man stands up and bolts to where she lays. He gazes at her face longingly. His feelings in complete turmoil.
‘I have never dared to touch the princess from the moment I saw her until now. I know that my filthy hands shouldn’t touch her skin. I am a man of darkness and she’s the light I could never have. I am untainted. I am cursed but-
I need to take the chance’
Thus, for the first time, he touches her soft face.
And lays his lips on hers.
But...
She doesn’t wake up.
‘It didn’t work.’
Before he knows, tears are quickly streaming from his eyes.
Then he runs away.
Away from the princess he dearly loved.
The love that he could never have.
--
After a day, realizing his fault, the ‘cursed thief’ runs back to the princess.
‘I promised I will never leave her but I did!’ he scolds himself. ‘I am really the worst!’
He’s six steps from the princess’ bed when he noticed something—or the lack of it. Somebody who is supposed to be there but not.
The princess is...gone.
--
The ‘cursed thief’ searches the whole forest but he fails to find her. Heart pounding in his ears, eyes getting blurry from his tears, he runs and runs. He can feel fear and worry devouring him.
Then he hears something.
Hooves of a horse trampling the ground.
He follows the noise and it leads him to a land outside the Sleeping Forest.
There’s a man there— dressed in a clean white coat, sword at his waist— mounted on his white strong horse with a yellow gold mane. His back and his dark hair are the only thing he sees from where he stands but he’s not what surprises him. It’s the princess.
She’s staring at the man’s outstretched hand. She lifts her gaze at his face. She slowly accepted his hand and he helps her mount on the white horse.
And then they leave.
The ‘cursed thief’ is stunned beyond words.
He wants to stop them but he can’t.
Because he has no right. No right to stop the princess from having the man she deserves.
She deserves to be happy. She deserves to have everything.
Everything that he cannot give.
And most of all he could not stop her from leaving because-
Because-
‘I am not her true love.’
But of course not.
How dare he even think about it.
He, a cursed human...
Cause for the eradication of a lot of people...
A mere thief.
A murderer.
A man beyond saving.
Deserves a princess like her?
Certainly not.
But you know, what hurts him the most?
It’s the fact that he didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye.
--
And then...
He starts to laugh. He laughs and laughs so hard. So loud. His laugh echoes through the forest.
While his tears flowing steadily on his cheeks.
‘What am I even thinking?’
The rain starts to fall as if it knew and shares his pain.
‘Of course I’m not her true love.’
He cries under the rain. The pain engulfing him.
Consuming.
Devouring.
Suffocating.
Lifting his head, he looks at the sky.
And with all of his broken heart.
He prays.
He knows it’s useless, utterly preposterous.
Yet he does.
He prays to the sun.
To the Gods.
And even to the Devil.
“No matter how many decades may pass.
No matter how many centuries may pass. I don’t care.
But once more...
Just once is enough...
I know I deserve nothing but this agony and torment.
And yet I pray.
I pray for only one thing.
Please let me see her again.”
--
After he clears his mind, the ‘cursed thief’ decides to travel the world and search for the princess. Oh no, he’s not going to take the princess away from her true love. He just wants a one final glance before he ends his cursed life in this world. Now you see in Greek Mythology, when a person dies he’ll wake up on a bank of a river called Styx. On the other side of the river is the Kingdom of Hades, the realm of the dead. To cross the river the soul should have a golden coin. This golden coin will serve as the payment to Charon, the one who ferries the dead to the other side. But you see, a cursed person will never receive a golden coin. Thus, without payment, his soul wouldn’t able to get on the other side. His soul will be lost, unguided and alone until the soul’s reincarnation.
He continues to travel and wanders the world in the hopes of finding her. And if the Gods give him a chance—which he doubts they would—he would say a proper farewell to her.
He discovers that the time inside the Sleeping Forest is different from the ‘outside world’. He doesn’t notice that a hundred years have passed when he’s inside the Sleeping Forest. The civilizations change a lot! Kings and queens rule kingdoms. The way people dress, act and speak also change. And what marvels him the most is the existence of the moon and the constellations of stars illuminating the night!
Oh how wonderful the world has become!
For every town he settles to, he learns something new. New language, new way of living. Due to his kind heart, people love him. They teach him how to use and build weapons which are used on their respective countries, they teach him the history of the world...they welcome and treat him as if he’s part of their family. But he knows he had to leave every town he went to because he has a purpose—to look for the princess—and for feeling guilt.
The guilt still crawling in his skin.
His dark past that he could never escaped to—for he was the one responsible for the genocide of his people. Fearing that the people he meets would share the same fate because of him.
--
It’s the season between summer and winter—when the weather is cooler, when the leaves change its colour and they fell off the trees as the wind blows—when he reaches the famous town in the north.
His attention is caught by the group of villagers crowding one of the kingdom’s messengers bearing an announcement to its people. He joins the crowd, also curious at the herald’s message.
“—witch will be hanged today in front of the town’s hall in the afternoon. The queen requested the presence of the town’s constituents to watch the impending death of the vile witch.”
Witch? Witches exist?!
The ‘cursed thief’, confused and unable to believe that such creature exists, decided to ask one of the villagers.
But the expression of the woman beside him ceased him from asking.
The woman is crying?
And it was not a ‘thank-God-she-will-be-hanged-today-I’ve-been-waiting-forever-for-this-moment’ cry. It was-
Full of sympathy and sorrow.
To his surprise, not only the woman beside her is shedding tears. A lot of them are shedding tears!
Tears for the witch’s doom?
-
He enters inside a pub and sits beside the man on the counter. He greets him and nonchalantly asks him about the said ‘witch’.
“I was once one of the queen’s royal guards but I quit ‘cause I can’t do it anymore. I can’t do it to her. To just know and look but not help.” the man starts as he drinks his big glass of rum in two gulps.
“Help who? The witch?” he inquires incredulously.
“The said ‘witch’ is the princess the crown prince—now the king—saved from the Sleeping Forest. The king of this kingdom loves adventures. He likes going to different places, explore and learn new things. But when he came back from his journey two years ago, he was not alone. He had the princess with her. At first, we didn’t believe the news that travelled to us. That the king brought with him was just a fair maiden from another country. But we were proven wrong when we saw her for the first time.
She looked immaculate. She is the most beautiful person we have ever seen. And we knew— we knew even without any evidence—that she really is the princess from the myth. What’s more is that, she is not only beautiful on the outside but also in the inside. Her heart is full of kindness. She is humble. We treated her as part of our family. We love and adore her and she loves and adores us in return.” The man continues.
“The king still travelled to different land, conquered some of them yet every time he went home, he would spend his days with the princess. Helping her tend the garden, teaching her to ride a horse or simply tell her his journeys.
But the king’s betrothed—now the queen—threatened by her presence and envious of the princess’ beauty, bright mind and over-flowing kindness, accused her of performing witch craft. Everybody knew it’s a lie. Everybody knew that the queen just wants her dead.”
The ‘cursed thief’s’ face pales and a horrible expression forms on his face. His gut aches as if he’s punched mercilessly. His ears want to curl and just stop listening. But he has to hear. He has to hear what happen to the princess.
“Couple of months ago, almost a year, the poor princess was sent to the dungeon. And to be honest with you, young lad. Being in the dungeon is the worst thing that could ever happen to you.” He voices his grim pointing his big fat finger to him.
“She was tortured there. They cut her hair, hanged her upside down. Tormented her, demanding the princess to show her true vile form. The queen sometimes went to the dungeon to admire her sick artwork. She demanded her to give up and stopped using her spells to deceive the king and his people. But the princess just stared at her, no hint of hatred in her eyes. It was still full of warmth, kindness and compassion. Enraged, the queen ordered the guards to ‘take her eyes out’.
And they did.”
The man starts to cry loudly for the poor princess’ fate. His snot mingling with his flowing tears.
“But the king-“ the ‘cursed thief’ starts but he was cut-off by the man slamming his cup on the table.
“The king did not do anything to help! How resentful it is when the king who goes to war, who fight tooth and nail for his people could not protect just one person.
The queen poisoned his mind, providing false evidences of her witch craft. He felt deceived by the princess, so him along with the queen, laugh at her misery.
And today the pitiful princess will be hanged. Her death will be seen by everyone. The queen said this is a way to warn the other witches from entering the kingdom, but we know better.”
At that moment, the ‘cursed thief’ quickly bolts out of the pub knocking out his chair. He knows it’s rude to just go without saying anything but he doesn’t care. He needs to see it with his own eyes. If the said ‘witch’ is the princess.
He needs to see. He needs to-
And then he sees her.
Standing on a platform with a masked man—the executioner—at the edge of it, assembling the device connected to a rope that was placed around the princess’ neck. In front of all the villagers and the royal guards, she was standing; hands limped at her side and her head down.
“Princess!” he screams at the top of his lungs. “Princess!” he howls once more.
The princess’ head slowly lifts up, dried blood painted on her cheeks. Her eyelids close. The ‘cursed thief’ released a pained whine when he remembered what the man said about what they did to her eyes.
But the princess-
She knows that voice. Oh the princess knows that voice!
The voice she heard when she was asleep. The voice she heard telling her tales...adventures...the sound of his laughter she embedded in her mind.
“Is that you?” the princess whispers, her voice hoarse, weak and unsteady. “Is that really you?” she asks louder.
“I’m so glad. I am so glad.” And then the princess cries. Blood and tears mingling, steadily seeping at her close eyelids.
The young man tries to reach the princess but the guards reach him first. He has been restrained and tackled to the ground.
“Don’t be fooled by her appearance. She’s a witch! Her true form is vile and hideous!” one of the guards roars at him.
“No! She’s not a witch!” She’s a princess! “She is-“ the one I love. “She is the-“
The loud sound of a rope being pulled by the device the executioner uses to kill his victims followed by the collective gasps of the people, ceases all the words coming from his mouth. He looks at the platform and sees what he does not what to see.
The princess is hanged! Hanged!
Her body trashing, small hands reaching at the rope at her neck—desperately attempting to get some air—, the whimper and wheezing chocking sound she made...
It’s beyond horrifying!
No! No! No! NO! This is not supposed to happen! This is-...the princess should be-...she must be-
“Princess! Princess!” he calls but the royal guards hold him down firmly.
“Let go of me!” he yells at the guards.
“Princess!”
Then one of the princess’ petite hands moved like she was trying to reach...
Reach the owner of the voice calling her but-
It’s too late.
Her hands go limp. Her body goes still.
She’s dead.
--
The ‘cursed thief’ cries and trashes so hard, the royal guards, having difficulty in restraining him, strikes his head. His eyes loses focus and the last thing he sees is the hanged limp body of his beloved as the familiar darkness envelops him like a lover.
--
He wakes up alone in a forest. It was dark and only the moon and the stars in the sky illuminate the night. He tries to stand up but fails to do so when he felt a sharp sting at the back of his head. He winces when he saw dried blood from it.
But this pain is nothing compared to his broken bleeding heart.
The town.
The queen’s false accusations.
The king’s foolishness
The hanged body of the princess.
Everything dawn on him. His heart heavy with agony. His tears appear once more.
It’s over now
It’s ALL over.
There’s no hope.
--
One banished God hears him.
He feels pity and amusement to the young man’s life.
Thus, he decides to show himself and offer help.
But a God doesn’t give anything without something in return
--
“Everything comes with a price. What can you give me in return?”
“Everything. You could have everything I have.”
“But I don’t want anything from you.”
“Please...” he pleaded. “I just want to see her. To be with her. To protect her. I know I cannot offer much. That I’m just a cursed human being.”
The God snaps his head at him when the word ‘cursed’ left his mouth. He stares at him incredulously. Eyes confused and then it lit up like a child seeing his birthday present.
“You don’t know?” The god starts to laugh. “You HONESTLY do not know? Indeed, the Gods are beyond cruel.” He sneers looking at the dark sky above. “I made my mind. I will help you, human.”
“On what price?”
“Entertainment.” His lips curls into a smirk and his eyes glinting in the dark.
“What do you mean?”
“Do you accept it or not?” he ignores the question.
“I do! I do.”
“Well then, come here so I could end your life.”
Dread and unfathomable fear filled the young man’s body. End? My life?
“You mean you’ll kill me? But that is useless. I’m cursed. I cannot meet the princess on the other side.”
The God releases a soft sigh as he explains what should be done.
“In this lifetime, your beloved is dead, isn’t she? Unfortunately, I could not bring her to life BUT what I could do for you is to assure you that in your next life once you meet her, your memories from this life will return to your reincarnated body. I will guide your soul for the time being until your rebirth to make sure that you’ll be reincarnated in the same era as her. With that, in the next life, you could now do the things that you failed to do so in this life. And that is to be with her and protect her with your life, isn’t it? I assure you, once you laid your eyes upon her, you’ll remember everything but-“ the God whispers to his ears.
“I’m afraid I could not do anything about the curse. A god’s curse is cannot be lifted. It would continue to exist from the moment it was casted, even after death, for all lifetimes. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
The God looks at his eyes, his lips morphing into a smirk.
“Very well then.”
--
Dark clouds are smouldering into red,
While down the craters morning burns,
The dying soldier shifts his head,
To watch the glory that returns;
He lifts his fingers toward the skies,
Where holy brightness breaks in flame;
Radiance reflected in his eyes,
And on his lips a whispered name.
--
He’s 10 years old when he regain all his memories from his past life.
It’s on the day he met James Buchanan Barnes.
The ‘cursed thief’—now reborn as Steven Grant Rogers—was born on the era of the Second World War.
Steven Rogers is not born as the healthiest kid in the neighbourhood. Actually, it’s the exact opposite. He had asthma, Rheumatic Fever, Scarlet Fever, high blood pressure and so on—an endless list of health issues.
He’s the son of Sarah Rogers, a kind nurse who helped anybody without a second thought, and of Joseph Rogers, a brave soldier who shows compassion, loyalty and integrity to his country and to his family.
Joseph Rogers is killed in action when Steven was 6 years old. He can still remember the anguish on the face of his mother when she received the letter the courier carried.
Yet his mother has been strong for him. She never gives up on him and does all she can do to help those who ask for her help. She even volunteered to be transferred to the TB ward because a lot of doctors and nurses refused to, due to their fear of catching the disease. Unfortunately, Sarah got infected and few months later she died.
--
James Buchanan Barnes did not have a pleasant childhood. His father—also a soldier—is killed by a disguised Nazi in front of them. And if the army has taken any second longer, he, his mother and his two younger sisters would have followed his father’s fate.
His mother, unable to cope at the death of her husband, the trauma it gave, makes her mad. One day, James discovers his mother trying to drown his sister. He immediately runs to save her but, unfortunately, it was too late for her youngest sister. She’s already dead when he arrives home.
At the tender age of 9, he has taken responsibility to his sister. Her mother was sent to a mental hospital while he and his sister are sent to an orphanage.
On a peaceful day of August, one family decides to adopt her younger sister. Of course, he could not refuse and the orphanage told him that his sister would be in better hands so he convinces his sister to go with her new family.
--
“I’ll visit you every Sunday. I promise.”
“Really?!”
“Yes, I will. Even though you’ll have a new family, I am still your brother. And you knew that I would never lie to you, Rebecca.”
“I love you, Bucky.”
“I love you too and I will miss you. Take care always.”
“Don’t worry, James. We’ll take care of Rebecca.”
--
They lied.
One day, a dreadful news has reached him that Rebecca along with her new family are missing. After 3 weeks, they find her body dumped on a secluded land beside the dumpster.
Her small frame is full of big ugly stitches.
They experimented on her and dumped her on a trashcan.
--
Steven Rogers meets James Barnes beside the playground holding a sketchpad.
--
“My sisters loved to draw and their drawings were great but as for me, I suck at it.”
“I love to draw too. If you want to, I’ll draw for you.”
“Really?! That would be great!”
--
On the moment Steven saw him, he knew.
He knew it was her. He was sure with it.
His warm smile.
His kind heart.
The emotions he feels when he’s with him.
All of him.
He knew.
Finally.
He waited for a hundred of years just to meet his beloved once again.
And this time.
He would fulfill his promise.
No matter what happens.
‘Don’t worry, I’ll keep you company.’
No matter what challenges the tomorrow has for them.
‘You’ll never be alone again, princess.’
He will be with him.
‘I will be with you-’
Always.
‘‘till the end of the line.’
--
Years had passed and Steve—‘My name is Steven, by the way’ ‘Steven? But I like the name Steve more so from now on, I’ll call you Steve.’— thought that the Gods has forgiven him and the curse is broken—which is impossible, even the banished God knows that!—But it is!, he told himself.
How he comes up with that conclusion, you might ask.
The serum fixed everything.
And the ‘cursed thief’ is now hailed as the ‘Golden Hero’.
A symbol to the nation!
With strength and vigour that rivals Ares, the God of War, with wisdom in battle as the goddess Athena and with heart so pure as Eros, the God of Love.
All the blessings.
The Gods have forgiven him.
Or so he thought.
--
James Barnes fell to his death in the winter of 1945.
A failed mission.
A big miscalculation.
The force of the blast throwing Bucky off the train. Steve attempts to save him as he hung on a rail on the side of the train. However the rail snaps and-
And he-
--
Steve feels it again.
Feelings which are familiar but never welcomed.
The pain.
The suffering.
The loneliness.
The guilt.
The scream that haunted him every time he goes to sleep.
The realization of waking up in the morning and remembering that his beloved is once again...gone.
And most of all, for breaking his promise to him...
And he can’t do this.
He can’t do this anymore!
Thus, having no reason to live for, he crashes the plane to the ice.
--
Now isn’t this the funniest story you have ever heard? And let me tell you the best part is yet to come!
--
Seventy years.
It took seventy years for them to meet again.
And he—his beloved—is now known as the Winter Soldier.
Hands full of blood.
Tainted.
Impure.
A man beyond saving.
--
Now this story as it come to an end has become funnier and funnier, hasn’t it?
The ‘princess in slumber’—the epitome of beauty, purity and innocence; the very definition of perfection who used to dwell in the Sleeping Forest; loved by the Gods themselves—is now the ‘nightmare’ told by the parents to their children. The face of destruction, abomination and death. The ghost feared by everyone!
What an irony!
It is really funny that I could feel tears starting to fill my eyes.
And that is not even the funniest part.
The funniest part...the best part of this story is the truth.
The truth that the ‘Golden Hero’ has been free from the curse hundred years ago.
Even before his rebirth.
Even before he met the banished God.
Even before the princess’ execution.
Even before the princess meets the foolish king.
But a god’s curse is cannot be lifted...
But it can be passed.
Little did the ‘thief’ knows, he has passed his curse to the princess when he laid his lips on hers.
Making the life of the princess miserable, lonely and in never ending pain.
Now that is really funny, isn’t it?
After all this time.
It was all his fault.
He brought nothing but pain and agony to the princess.
He condemned her.
While he is being hailed as a hero, basking in glory, loved and praised for his bravery, loyalty and honour.
The princess is condemned in eternal damnation for all life times.
Now isn’t this the funniest story you have ever heard?
Then why are you not laughing?