Monday, February 10, 2014

Bitter Seclusion

It's been such a long time since I've spoken to another, laughed with them, played with all the innocence only a child can have. So long.
(Creeping loneliness, eating away from inside)
Am I deformed? Perhaps, but surely it's enough for a child to overcome. Young enough, they have no prejudice. No fear of the strange and the twisted

The laughter. Am I hallucinating? Years since I heard it, instead of the bitter tears and screams I've become accustomed to. This time... perhaps this time, it'll be different. 
Laughter. He stripped that from me when he altered me, tore my innocence away. The snow was stained berry red with blood that day, the rich liquid staining my soul. 
Closer. I can almost see them, smell them. And then they are there. 

No parents with them; as trusting as mine were with me. I wonder sometimes what they thought, whether they searched and gave up. I knew I would never go back, could never go back. Ten years old and I knew it. 

Closer. They show no fear, and I know I was right. They're too young to fear the monster under the bed, aren't they? Too young to know the real monsters are what we become. 
(what we became)
And with a burst, I spring from the trees and play. 
What's that look on their faces? It's joy to have found another playmate, surely!
No. I know the look well enough from my years of changedness.
Fear, pure and unbridled. 

My back burns and I lose control. He's at the wheel now; the Lord of the Forest pushes me to a back seat
He used me. Used me. What an idiot I was to think he'd ever let go of me. 

For I am not alone. I will never be alone. He will always be there, with his monstrous branches and unreadable face. He will never let me be alone. He will never let me go. I am too useful for that. 

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