Sentinels

I have been called many things over the ages. Watcher, Guardian, Angel. But nothing ever fit quite as well as a sentinel. A person or thing that watches. That about summed up the breath of my long life, watching. Further explanation will have to come later for our story begins on a day that started like any other, the sun broke over the horizon in the vibrant display of oranges of yellows that made the world feel beautiful and new again for the millionth time. The wonder of the colored light flooding the valley with a honey warm glow was so utterly lost on me that it might as well have been in black and white. I had long ago lost my appreciation for the simple beauties of the world. Everything loses its splendor when one sees it all the time. Nothing is special once it becomes common. It was the same with everything, from caveman with cultivated grain, to the gold jewelry once prized by nobles and kings now the humans put it in their liquor, decorated with it, even used it in their teeth, nothing held its value, from the gold in the ground to the colors in the sky, it all gets old with enough time.

And time was all I had. Endless time. Years, too many to count stretched out behind me and forever in front of me, with no finish line in sight. It was with that mindset I pulled myself from the warm comfort of my bed and stretched the sleep from my limbs. I stretched my arms high above my head, the light of the window falling across my bare back. A slight curl of my lips that might have at one time been a smile touched my face as I stood enjoying the heat of the sun on my perpetually chilled skin even if the color display was completely lost on me. I was in no hurry as I moved around the room, dressing in the same jeans and t-shirt not bothering to look in the mirror. It never changed anyway. I'd looked the same for as long as I could remember. As long as anyone could remember. I couldn't remember ever being a child or growing up, it was as if I just was, always had been and for all appearances, always would.

For anyone who managed to look for longer than a moment I was attractive by human standards, somewhere in my early twenties, pale complexion, tallish at 5'8", slender with soft feminine curves and long legs. I had thick burnt auburn red hair I kept tied back in a boring low ponytail and green eyes that would have been pretty had anyone bothered to notice, but like precious items, a thing can't be valued if it's not seen and I never am.

You know me, you've met me. I'm the face in the crowd, the kind word at the right moment, the lost dollar you find on the street, the extra person on the train, the person across the road, watching. Always watching. I'm always there, or one like me. I'm not alone, there are still a few of us here, but I'm getting ahead of myself.

The day started like any other countless ones before it. I dressed in the warm morning light wishing once again I could sleep in but it wasn't to be. We didn't sleep like normal people, we had no need for sleep, physically, it was just a blessed relief for the mind from the crippling tedium of it all. A few hours of blissful oblivion. If I could figure out how to live there I'd move.

Practiced steps, twenty four to the door, forty seven to the elevator, two flights down and another fifty six to the street. No one noticed, not the young mom wrestling her kids into a double stroller while her male counterpart chatted on his cell, nor the group of teen girls giggling as they whispered morning gossip or the old couple who held hands every morning for their morning stroll. If you asked any they might recall a young woman, very quiet, who lived on the third floor but no one would have anything remarkable to say even though I passed them every morning, as steady as clock work.

Like every other day I walked down the same streets, down the same alleys, a heavy weight seemed to drag on me. The depression was nothing new, we all suffered from it from time to time. Hard not to get depressed when your life is an endless loop of nothing but the same, living to watch others live and never experience it yourself. I'm very much of the opinion the creator was either very short sighted, neive or simply cruel to have created us as such. But after all these years, watching men struggle from the muck and evolve I wasn't so sure I wanted their gifts either. Wonder touched; that what the humans were first called when the creator breathed life into them. Their greatest gift would be their curiosity, their drive for understanding, their imagination. Gifts that on their face sounded wonderful and enchanting but I was less than enchanted with the humans.

It was the time, all those years would drag on anyone. And today I was feeling it more. Maybe it was the chill in the air that caressed my skin as I sat on the familiar bench with the familiar birds chirping for bread crumbs while I tried to clear my mind of the melancholy thoughts. Winters tended to make me morose but it did no good to ruminate on the misfortunes of my situation. It was what it was, what it would always be. There was nothing I could do about it. I was an extra in everyone else's story without one of my own.