Hearing Kai

Her

My first words were written in wavering streaks across my face. Dare me. They were my only release without paper and writing infiltrated the corners of my mind, swept me away, took me hostage... In these moments, I fled tradition. I went by instinct. A day swept warrior. I could no longer be claimed by the marks on a page.

My parents crossed the sheet separating my world from theirs, blank faced as usual. Words beyond paper were forbidden, so they made sure not to let their faces write. I didn't have time to erase my words and they read them immediately. Their feet marched across the mats and I noticed their fingers group as one. Their families of fingers came at me, their words harsh and unyielding. They erased my words for me, but that wasn't enough. They yanked at my collar, ripping my shirt. I didn't understand. This was a language I didn't know. I braced myself and looked up to read hatred and desire. The fingers suddenly slipped away as my mother tried desperately to stop my father. Her eyes tattooing his as if her lashes were needles. He stopped, face blank, and walked away. She worked to erase the expression from her face while finding me another shirt.