#And why are all the boys scowling at it like it murdered their firstborn child?

[unfortunate-eggs]

The big ass elephant in my classroom called feminism

In the current, western world I and many others live in, it’s easy to brush off women’s oppression. After all, we still have the same rights as men, don’t we? Even if we are heading to a place where we won’t, even if millions of women around the world don’t, we still have them. In school, I am encouraged to seek out opportunities, expand my knowledge, and engage with my peers the very same as a guy would. At a first glance, superficially, there’s no difference between the way I am treated and a man is treated in society… at least no difference considered oppressive… 

So, then, the question I am left with is: why is there this big ass elephant in my classroom called feminism?

And why are the boys all scowling at it like it murdered their firstborn child?

And why are all the girls stealing glances at it like they’re scared they’ll actually be arrested for robbery?

The world we live in is a patriarchy… which is something I struggled to comprehend for a WHILE. It’s an objectively true fact, men do hold most of the power in our society, but everytime I said it, it felt so unnatural—like I was lying. I was raised to believe that women and men are equals, I knew how far we’d come from being refused loans just because we were women in the 1980s to having the same rights as men today. ‘Patriarchy’ felt like too harsh a word to attribute to the privilege I grew up in.

But that's the patriarchy's design. It isn’t a dinosaur tearing apart the world you live in because “girls were modest in the Jurassic period!”, it’s a ghost looming over you as you go about your life—disappearing as you turn to look at it and unknown to the very people it looms over—which is everyone. The reason ‘patriarchy’ feels too harsh a word is that women are implicitly taught they’re too much, and then treated like they’re too little. It’s why we still have a 17.5% pay gap in Australia (AHRC), and why we’re blamed for not asking for raises, and why we’re condemned when we do ask for them. The world systematically teaches women to sit down and shut up.

Being a teenage girl is wildly different from being a teenage boy. I don’t mean to be cruel, but I truly believe that for every insecurity a teenage boy has, a teenage girl has nine more. Adolescence is a time of uncertainty; everyone is changing, everyone is discovering new things about themselves, and everyone is trying to stay afloat as the sea current pulls them in every direction simultaneously. The difference, though, between this for boys and for girls is that boys aren’t being criticised for their every move. Teenage girls are both the world’s trend setters and the world’s cringiest demographic—everything you like is both immensely popular and incredibly annoying. You’re both too much for your loud and invasive liking of this thing, and too little for going with the popular thing, or going with the alternative thing, or going with the weird thing, or going with any other variety of thing! It doesn’t actually matter cause you’re a teenage girl!

Girl’s are painfully aware there’s something wrong with them, and painfully aware that it’s their gender. Not just teenagers, but all women, from a very young age, are aware of misogyny. Men aren’t. And, of course, this is where that giant ass elephant comes in. In health, the Australian syllabus requires we’re taught about discrimination, which is all well and good until we’re talking about women’s rights. And everybody’s agreeing on the surface level but the boys start glaring at the elephant like it’s personally attacking them (because, even if it’s not conscious, no one reacts well to power being taken away from them) and the girls start sneaking smiley looks at it but you can tell they feel guilty (because all women are told to feel is guilty for being too much for the men who can’t handle feminists and too little for ‘betraying’ their gender) and no one’s excited for this to be the rest of their lives. But it will be.

But maybe it won’t be your daughter’s.

The best way I can think of to explain all of this is simple: being a man is being innocent until proven guilty, and being a woman is being guilty until proven innocent. Every breath a man takes will, at the very least, include the assumption of innocence—he’s done absolutely nothing wrong. Every breath a woman takes will, at the very least, include the assumption of guilt—no matter how pure and hardworking you’ve been your entire life, there'll always be something wrong. I just hope that one day the elephant won’t have to hide in the corner. Maybe one day, it won’t be there at all. Maybe, if we’re smart, we can work out a system to get the elephant out of the room without breaking everything.

Idk, it’s 3 am, I’m going to sleep.

[jeichanhaka]

If Any Would Avenge: 31

Chapter 31: Nemesis

Storybrooke: Gold's Cabin

"I...have a proposition for you." George spoke, annoying Gold even though he knew the ex-king wasn't the one truly speaking. "A deal, if you like."

"And what makes you think I want anything you have to offer?" He scoffed, wrapping his hand once more around the ex-king's throat but refraining from squeezing it. "This bastard doesn't need his heart in his chest to be killed. I can just as easily crush his throat...or tear out his intestines."

"Go ahead. I despise George just the same as you. More actually. And I have his heart." The person spoke coldly through the ex-king, while Gold cocked an eyebrow. "We can have a race to see who can kill him first. Preferably after you and I have a little tête-à-tête."

"...hm." Gold waited a moment before replying, his imp self hissing at him to forget whoever was speaking through George and instead focus on bringing Sadie to Nemesis. Getting his dagger back took priority over whatever deal or whatnot this new interloper wanted. "Tell me who you are first, dearie. Or better yet, show yourself and let's have our little talk face-to-face."

"You don't trust me?"

"Well, those who refuse to make deals with me in person tend to be cowards or hoping to get away with not fulfilling their end." He replied, about to say more when Sadie started crying and drew his attention away. In that moment, while his eyes were focused on the five day old, George took out a knife and lunged at the Dark One. Gold was quicker, flinging George across the cabin with a single wave of his hand and glowering when the knife clattered to the floor. "See? Coward." He growled and squeezed the ex-king's throat, holding the wizened man firmly against the cabin wall. His angry eyes shifting towards the knife that had clattered to the floor.

It was an ordinary enough pocket knife, except for the dark substance coating its tip. He bristled upon recognizing it as dreamshade though mixed together with another substance. Likely one that made it deadlier, he mused as he picked it up, being careful not to touch anywhere near the poison.

"Nice try, dearie, but you'll have to do better than that if you want to kill me."

"Oh, but I don't. " George spoke, while another, more lulling voice also spoke the same words. Its owner standing behind Gold, who tensed in shock at the familiar voice. "On the contrary, I came back to stop that happening."

Dream World:

"Actually…." A voice echoed through the cottage, which suddenly felt colder as the hearth fire died out and left them standing in complete darkness. As dark as a tomb. "...it can."

"What? Who's there?" Belle tensed and grabbed Gideon protectively, realizing only then that the baby she'd been holding had vanished. Her eyes widened, searching the darkness around her frantically for any sign of the baby or clue to where it had gone. "Where's…."

"Mom, it's alright. Just calm down." Gideon grabbed hold of his mother, pulling her back towards him when she tried rushing into the darkness searching for the baby. "Stay here."

"But...my baby...your brother..." Belle trembled and pulled away from her firstborn, her eyes and senses locked on the darkness surrounding them. Peering into the lightless void, a snippet of her dream at the hospital flashed through her thoughts: that of the page with the words 'find me' written over and over. "I have to find him. I…."

"Mother, please. It's too..." Gideon beseeched, reaching out for Belle only for her to hurry forward blindly, searching for her lost child. He bit his lip, unable to bring himself to finish his sentence. How could he possibly tell his mother the truth about the child she sought? That the child - his Unwritten brother - was the mastermind behind his murder?

"No, no. This won't do." The voice from earlier muttered, its owner standing behind Gideon. There was a snap of fingers and their surroundings were once more lit, this time by an orb of pure magic floating just below the ceiling. It illuminated the whole cottage, allowing Gideon to see Belle on the far end, searching for an exit. He hurried towards her.

"Mother…."

Belle frowned, now that the cottage interior was once again illuminated she saw there was no door along the wall. Yet just before the hearth fire died, she swore the door had been along this wall. That's why she ran towards it. Her chin scrunched up as she thought, her eyes shifting towards the other walls just in case.

"...search all you like, there's no door." Nemesis muttered and sat down in a wooden chair by the hearth. Sighing, he started picking his nails, his youthful face reflecting only ennui.

"But ther…." Belle faltered mid-reply, having turned around enough to see both Gideon and the youth. Her cerulean eyes widened, lingering on Nemesis, drinking in his eye shape, skin tone, and cheek bones; the way he glowered at his fingers focused on what he was doing, his brow knitted in concentration. It reminded her of…. On the whole, she wasn't sure, but the scowl reminded her of her husband, while the rest reminded her of a portrait hung on the wall of her family's armory back in the Enchanted Forest. Placed above a suit of silver and steel armor, the painting was one depicting the knight Isobelle, her family's oldest known ancestor. And whom her parents had often mentioned she took after growing up.

Nemesis glanced up, the quiet baffling him. He'd been expecting his would-be mother to make a fuss or question his certainty about the door. Or simply question his presence. What he hadn't expected was this prolonged silence. "Hm?"

"Oh!" Belle gasped the moment the youth glanced at her, recognizing the deep-brown, speckled with a lighter brown, irises. It all clicked in her head, and without hesitance she hurried forwards. "You're my son….my….the one Isaac wrote…." She muttered and reached out to hug Nemesis, overwhelmed by happiness and relief. "You…."

Nemesis scowled and knocked away the chestnut haired woman's arms, but didn't deny his identity. Nor did he react to the stricken look on Belle's face at the rebuff, instead opting to frown cooly at her. "What of it?"

Belle blinked back her tears, brought forth first by happiness then by anguish at her unwritten son's reply. The indifference in his voice, the way he stared at her like she meant nothing...it cut her deeply, like a sharpened iron poker thrust into her heart. "I…. You're my boy…my..."

"Please." Nemesis scoffed, sitting rigidly beside the hearth, and eyeing Belle contemptuously. "You only want me because you lost him." He gestured towards Gideon, who hung back unsure of what to do.

Belle blanched and flinched at the accusation, before quickly shaking her head. "No. That's not…."

Nemesis snarled and rose to his feet, standing just an inch or so taller than the chestnut haired librarian. "Don't lie." He spat, the light orbs illuminating the cottage sparking and a cold chill rushing through the air. The air felt heavy. "Don't!" Nemesis hissed when Belle tried once more to refute the accusation. "You would not even have thought of me if he hadn't died. I've seen that future. Observed every minute of it. You never once considered me in it."

"I…." Belle shook her head, her eyes brimming with tears. She approached Nemesis, only to be rebuffed a second time, this time more violently. A gasp escaped her when Nemesis back-slapped her hand away, and glared down at her. Her chin quivered as she returned the stare, gazing into her unwritten son's cold brown eyes. "...I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?" Nemesis scoffed, dismissing the woman as much for spite as from genuine anger. "You think that's enough? Really?" His brown irises darkened, and he pulled away when Belle reached out for him a third time. "I was Unwritten. Do you have any inkling what that entailed? One moment I was alive in a bright and warm world, safe and loved. Then it all was abruptly wiped away, and I was left in an immense void, with nothing but brief memories of my 'life,' and no idea what had happened or why." He growled and turned back to his chair by the hearth, only instead of sitting down he disintegrated it with a wave of his hand. Its remains just dust piling on the floor.

Belle swallowed listening to her unwritten son recount his time in the void, which was at the heart of the Realm of the Unwritten. She shivered, silent tears running down her cheeks as Nemesis described it and how it nearly fully erased him. "I'm sorry. I…." Belle's voice broke, her arms shaking with the urge to embrace her unwritten son, but refrained from fear of being yet again rebuffed.

"Mother." Gideon hurried to his mother's side, and wrapped his arms around her to soothe her. Unlike his brother he noticed their mother's distress and sought to comfort her, whereas Nemesis simply turned away. "It's all right. It's…."

"No." Nemesis growled, still turned away. His gaze focused on a glass orb on the mantel above the darkened hearth. Through its reflective surface he watched his mother and brother, scrutinizing them secretively. "It's not. And an apology, no matter how heartfelt, isn't enough. An 'I'm sorry' won't give me what I seek. It won't..." He peered at Belle's reflection in the orb and listened to her sniffle, his thin lips twitching. His brown irises gleamed coldly. "...help bring me back."

Listening to her unwritten son, as well as Gideon who tried reassuring her against Nemesis barbed words, Belle sniffled, and glanced up. Dabbing at her eyes to clear away her tears, her cheeks glossy from crying, she mulled over Nemesis' shift in tone: his last few words were less angry, not by much, but enough. Latching onto the shift, her heart quickening in hope, Belle gandered at her unwritten son's back, going over the last part of his sentence. "Help...bring you back? You mean…."

Standing beside their mother, Gideon tensed as she stepped towards Nemesis, her face lighting up. The maternal longing in Belle's eyes was clear as was her hope, and he was loathed to shatter either. At the same time he distrusted his would-be brother. "Mother, don't…."

"Yes." Nemesis cut off Gideon, and turned his gaze to Belle. "I can be returned to the story."

Belle inhaled sharply, her cerulean eyes brimming with tears, but these ones of hope not despair. She reached out tentatively towards her unwritten son. "You mean...I can...I can be your mother...I can have you, my baby, again…."

"I can be your flesh and blood son again, yes." Nemesis replied, allowing Belle to grab hold of his arms, her eyes searching his. "It...it'll require a few things. But I can be brought back into existence."

"Mother, don't listen to him." Gideon grabbed hold of Belle's wrist, caught between his conscience, which implored him to warn his mother about Nemesis' cutthroat nature, and his heart which cautioned him against telling her Nemesis was Nemesis. If their mother learned her unwritten child had orchestrated his murder and that of her unborn child...Gideon feared she would break. "There's bound to be a great and terrible price to do what he says."

"Gideon…." Belle glanced at her deceased son, her chin scrunching up.

"Please, mother, don't listen to him. Look to the future, not the past." Gideon implored, Nemesis smirking quietly when his brother mentioned the future, as though laughing at a private joke. Gideon ignored him and squeezed Belle's hand, before embracing her in a full hug. "You can still have a happy future. And a future child, once the curse or whatnot Fortunato placed on you is dealt with."

"Ah, actually…." Nemesis interjected, earning a scowl from Gideon and a wide-eyed gaze from Belle. "It wasn't a curse Fortunato used when he stabbed you. Rather it was a potion. He only called it that before you sealed him away to act as a safeguard."

"Safeguard?" Belle muttered, searching her unwritten son's face, curious. Gideon wore a similar expression.

"Yes. Fortunato…." Nemesis paused, drawing out the other's name and reaching towards his mother's cheek. "Is powerful. I couldn't even stop him." He muttered, his lips twitching when he sensed Gideon bristling beside Belle, his brother worried about him revealing too much. Without even needing to ask or glance at his brother, he understood Gideon's fear about their mother finding out he was the leader of the Nemesis assassin group. "You did, though." He glanced down at their mother's hands, the faintest glow emanating from them in shape of a gilded-scarab marking. Belle shivered and followed his gaze to her hands, a mix of emotions filling her. "Now, the magic you used to trap Fortunato is powered by these markings...the symbol Nemesis adopted as...its...own."

"Mother?" Gideon swallowed and grabbed hold of her hand, reluctant to believe his eyes as he discerned the traces of dark magic exuded from those faint markings. Up until that moment, as he had missed many of the developments in the living world, Gideon had assumed Belle had used some sort of light magic to seal the assassin. "You didn't…."

"I…." Belle raised her hand up, glancing over both sides of it, and studying the marking, which tingled on her skin. Even now part of her regretted giving into the magic, but she knew she wouldn't have done anything different - she had sealed the bastard away and got revenge without killing.

"She did. She used the marks' power to get revenge." Nemesis answered Gideon, while their mother flexed her hands and knitted her brow at the persistent soft glow of the markings on her hands. "Setting aside the price of her choice and what that will mean, the markings themselves are a curse."

"Then...that means they can be dispelled by true love's kiss…." Gideon's face brightened, his eyes searching his mother's face as he grabbed her by her upper arms and drew her towards him. His exuberance mellowed slightly when she didn't look at him, but rather continued to silently gaze at her hands, lost in thought. "Mother?"