AN: So, this is a really, horribly lame thing that I scratched together yesterday during Short Story Tuesday, based on smaur's prompt. I don't play chess, so it was ridiculously hard thinking up anything based on what she gave us. But, anyway, it was awesome. The story just sucks, but here it is. =P (Also, help me tear this apart, because I didn't edit, and probably has typos and faulty coordination and bad grammar)
It was merely a game. Nothing more, nothing less. Learning how to maneuver the board was the hardest part, but once that was mastered, everything else was a matter of timing and accuracy.
Chess mates would stare me dead in the eye as I reached for a piece, mapping courses in my head-- I would stare right back, never once glancing at the square I aimed for. I always made it-- yes, I knew I always would. I had the files and ranks mapped out in my head, imprinted clearer than my own name. I was near unbeatable-- only the best could outdo me and many times, they would resign, give up before checkmate was called. It was pathetic.
I had nothing else, though; everything I've known was just thousands of loose ribbons, dancing in the winds of time, nothing that I could ever dream of relating back to. It was useless, a series of events that tied into nothing beneficial that I could reflect upon later on in life. My only outlet was the chessboard.
The rooks taught me how to think. Taught me how to watch for the slightest indication of movement and plot out my next move, along with alternative ways out in case a last minute change was made. It was either up, down or left, right, but they were never wrong. They were the strong who inhabited the sides of streets, buildings and alleyways-- it was never clear if they were homeless or not, but their true home was the street, helping people like myself who too often got caught in the noose of trouble. The moment a stranger appeared, it was time to move on. Act calm and get away as quickly and inconspicuously as you could.
The pawns were near worthless, scattered everywhere, on the board of life, only to be used when we wouldn't play off a larger piece of ours, and become more important when we needed them again. We weren't stupid, we just needed someone to use, to leech off of, and pawns were always the easiest target. They weren't stupid, only shallow, helping us when we needed for only one thing in return. Money.
The bishops were movement. When the going got rough and there were no alleyways, no rooks to turn to, the bishops were our last resort. Content people, they, with a certain harsh demeanor that demanded utmost respect. They represented everything about chess; sly, slow movements followed by a loud slam on the board when the final decision was made. Diagonals, ways out of situations that had no front or back doors, no corridors leading away. There was always that final escape whenever the bishop was in my hand.
The knights were unmoving. Slow people, always willing to help us, but always holding time up, saying, "We've got time, we've got time." Their hospitality was cherished, respected, often willing us to sleep for a night. Troubled sleeps those were; greyhounds on your trail don't amount to much peace. They moved us along, but never with the determination of the rook, or the ferocity of a bishop. It was always a subconscious movement at the dry point on a game, just before the momentum picked up and the duel reached its maximum pace.
I worshiped the kings, in their own, closed-in square of perfect movements, never too far, never too close. Perfect, one-steps, planned out clearly. An inquiry for directions required a price; sometimes a dangerous, life-and-freedom threatening job, other times an interrogation. They moved us forward, propelled us, but they seldom moved from their territory, a secretive, unknown place although it was exposed in the open.
I worshiped the kings, but I gave my heart to the queens. They ruled the boards, free to move in any direction. They knew more than the rooks and bishops combined, and their skill with time and accuracy was unbelievably clever. No matter how desperate we were, how close the law enforcers followed behind, we always found a moment to sit back and admire them with awe. It was always when I had the chance, the moment where the queen was in my palm, I could move her across the board without a thought and declare checkmate before my opponent could blink.
