There’s nothing I can do anyway…
Besides, I…
“Quite frankly, you’re a monster.”
I turn my head away from her at that last word, gritting my teeth.
“Wrong.”
“Failure.”
“Criminal.”
Right. Because I only know how to break whatever I touch, because I’m starving for blood, because I enjoy thrills and challenges - and there was nothing better to do as a child than to commit illegal activities in my hometown. I’m an adult now, working 10 hours a day without even batting an eyelash. With that kind of raw energy, what else was I supposed to do?
Maybe they’re right. Maybe I should stop just trying to—
“What were you even trying to do anyway?”
My eyes drop now, and I rub my fingers behind my back, trying to get blood past the gritty ropes around my wrists. Noticing, the figure behind me grabs a fist of my hair and throws me hard to the side. I fall with a cry from my knees, landing on my left shoulder. With an effort, I manage to get back up to my knees, only to feel a boot kick down on my upper back, forcefully bowing my head to the ground.
“Answer.”
“I don’t know,” I reply weakly.
Why did I do what I did?
Tell me that I had another choice! I want to scream.
Tell me that I wasn’t just trying to save those closest to me. Tell me that I should have bound myself to entropy when I have this incredible ability to ignite fire from my fingertips and charm snakes to sleep with my tongue. Tell me, if this pain isn’t real, what was I supposed to do back then?
“I…I loved him.”
“Tell me what you did before.”
Was I bored? Was I arrogant? Did I hate the world?
I wanted to have fun…
How do I explain this?
At my silence, the queen before me sighs. “You have no excuse for the shedding of innocent blood—” Not innocent. “—nor do you possess self-control for your strengths—“ Then you negate who I am? “—and, as a result, you will come to face the just consequences.”
“You mean, punishment,” I snarl.
The foot eases up off my back, and I raise my head briefly, only to catch a kick to the mouth with enough force that I feel my skull crack against the ground as I jerk backwards. I choke off a scream, warm blood flooding my mouth, and run my tongue across all my teeth, making sure they’re in place. At the same time, another kick drives into my stomach, and I heave.
Stop…
The figure kicks again, and vomit curls out of the sides of my lips, down behind my neck into my hair, across the smooth golden floor. I double over on my side, tears flooding my eyes, and gasp for air.
“You deserved this.”
I deserved this?!
“For what?!” I yell, an edge of panic in my voice that betrays my sudden fear.
There’s no response, just the sound of a metal staff breaking my ribs.
~ ~ ~
I screamed as they broke my legs, and then I blacked out sometime as they were dragging me back to my prison cell.
Now I wait here, healed.
How long has it been?
I think even the guards forgot.
They set everything to heal perfectly, which was part of the whole “consequence versus punishment” spiel. If they were punishing me, wouldn’t they have maimed me beyond recognition? That’s what they said.
I’m not sure that they haven’t. The fire’s back in my palms, and there’s nothing left to burn. I pace day after day, eating the same food day after day, and they want me to prove to them how submissive and obedient I’ve become.
How can I show them that?
This is who I am.
“Wrong.”
Outcast.
~ ~ ~
Little snippet I wrote a month ago. Leaving here because I like it too much to delete it, but I don't care enough to save it on my laptop. :P
Write on!
Clove
