1. She never thought she'd die like this. She thought she'd die in childbirth, like her aunt, or in the river, like her cousin, or in the midst of winter, like the deer that come down from the hills, starving in the snow. She never thought it'd be her village, never thought that her eyes would be too bright, her hair too long, her body too girlish. That she was too alive.
2. She's close to her brother and cousins; too close, maybe. She grew up playing with them in the river, racing with the boys until her mother came and pulled her back into the village. They said they'd protect her; she said she didn't need protecting. When the village kills her, her brother doesn't come. Her cousins don't, either. Her father doesn't save her. Her mother weeps as though she's already dead.
3. When she wakes up, she's alone. There's his horse, and a baby, but she's alone. After that, she's scared of falling asleep, because she's sure that when she wakes up, she'll be alone again, lying on a stone altar, under the dusty sunlight. When she does fall asleep, in the grass on top of the temple, she dreams of her village, and her family. And when she wakes up, she doesn't open her eyes until she hears the baby crying, because she's afraid that everything will be gone again.
4. She never talked to Wander. She knew who he was, vaguely, if only because their village wasn't that large. She knew that he used to play with her cousins, and that he was a few years older. But he grew up before she ever went to play at the river, and then she never thought about talking to him. If she'd known that she'd die-- that he'd die-- she might've spoken to him.
i swear your icon is flickering at me. IS IT? or am i just going crazy? asdf;kljd D:
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2008-11-03 03:44 am (UTC)1. She never thought she'd die like this. She thought she'd die in childbirth, like her aunt, or in the river, like her cousin, or in the midst of winter, like the deer that come down from the hills, starving in the snow. She never thought it'd be her village, never thought that her eyes would be too bright, her hair too long, her body too girlish. That she was too alive.
2. She's close to her brother and cousins; too close, maybe. She grew up playing with them in the river, racing with the boys until her mother came and pulled her back into the village. They said they'd protect her; she said she didn't need protecting. When the village kills her, her brother doesn't come. Her cousins don't, either. Her father doesn't save her. Her mother weeps as though she's already dead.
3. When she wakes up, she's alone. There's his horse, and a baby, but she's alone. After that, she's scared of falling asleep, because she's sure that when she wakes up, she'll be alone again, lying on a stone altar, under the dusty sunlight. When she does fall asleep, in the grass on top of the temple, she dreams of her village, and her family. And when she wakes up, she doesn't open her eyes until she hears the baby crying, because she's afraid that everything will be gone again.
4. She never talked to Wander. She knew who he was, vaguely, if only because their village wasn't that large. She knew that he used to play with her cousins, and that he was a few years older. But he grew up before she ever went to play at the river, and then she never thought about talking to him. If she'd known that she'd die-- that he'd die-- she might've spoken to him.
i swear your icon is flickering at me. IS IT? or am i just going crazy? asdf;kljd D: