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ELEVEN YEARS AGO
THE OLDEST AND STRONGEST EMOTION OF MANKIND IS FEAR, AND THE OLDEST AND STRONGEST KIND OF FEAR, IS THE FEAR OF THE UNKNOWN CONCEALED BUT A FEW PACES AWAY. IT MAKES ONE FEEL HELPLESS
"PLEASE!" SHE SCREAMED "PLEASE! LET ME OUT! I BEG OF YOU" SHE SCREAMED BUT NO ONE WOULD LISTEN. "I SWEAR I WILL SAY NOTHING TO THE OTHERS! LET ME OUT!" SHE TRIED, HOPING THE LOWERS WOULD TAKE PITY ON HER.
NO ONE DID.
A dark claw wrapped around her mouth, muffling her screams as she began to cry. She had only asked them to give her water, but it ended with an enraged master, a bleeding stomach and a cold, dark room.
She quietly watched as its stitched mouth turned to a frown as she felt herself begin to lose consciousness.
Perhaps she would finally be freed by the sweet kiss of death.
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SIX YEARS AGO
SCREAMING. HELPLESS SCREAMING. IF THE MOUNTAINS HEARD HER SOUNDS, THEY'D WEEP AT HER DESPAIR. TEARS OF AGONY AND SCREAMS OF ANGUISH. OUT OF THE MANY PAINS SHE'D EXPERIENCED IN LIFE THIS WAS BY FAR THE WORST ONE.
NOT BECAUSE IT HURT.
BUT BECAUSE NO ONE COULD BEAR WITNESS TO WHAT IT WAS. NO ONE HAD A CLUE. FOR ALL HER SCREAMS WERE SILENT. ALL HER BATTLES, HER OWN. ALL HER PAIN BECOMING THE WEIGHT THAT CRUSHED HER TO THE GROUND. WOULD SHE RISE OR CRUMBLE BENEATH—THAT HAD BEEN THE QUESTION.
"WHAT TROUBLES YOU, MY CHILD?" The master questioned as he saw her in her blank state. That had been how she stood most days. She would not interact with the other monks. She kept to herself. That was acceptable, yes. But, he had seen far too many like her. Their want of being alone was simply because they were afraid of being hurt. To put it lightly.
What this child went through, was not something that should've happened to her. What she goes through in this moment should not be happening to her.
"Memories" She answered vaguely.
A shadow creature, the same one she had always seen awake and asleep, day in and night out. Waved at her from across the river beds. It's stitched mouth formed a straight line. It's dark eyes stared back at her. Just as she stared at him.
Screams. Screaming. Screams.
Everything in her head was screaming at her. Screeching at her. She wanted it all to stop. She wanted it to stop that very instant.
But it never did.
"There was once a young man..." The master began "...trained to follow the path of good. He was faultless. His skills were meant to protect his own. One day, when he was thrust into battle, he grew afraid. He stopped, paralysed by his fear and ran away. Leaving behind a bloody field." He paused before tapping his staff on the tree where they sat and offered the young girl a peach "...With him, was a man accused of being the sinful one. The shame and failure of his clan. A disgrace." He smiled at her when she looked at him "When the battle began, he chose to fight for the very people who had loathed him. For he chose not to be what they thought he was. He chose not to be a coward"
