Tangled in the Great Escape


I lay there in the gathering dark, watching the tears mingle with the stars.  All I had wanted was to remain invisible, to evade her notice. And now he had dragged me into full view of my demonic sister and practically pinned a sign to my back.  How could I have thought he loved me? All he wanted was his own good. All he CARED about was his family, and his reputation.  I had been a means to a supernatural end, that was all.  I had trusted him with the only thing I had, I had almost loved him and he had pushed me away to suit his own rules and please his own heart.  I ran my nails along the ground, liking the ripping of grass and nail alike as they ran through the dry earth.

She sunk down from nowhere, pulling a hangnail with her teeth.  "You're right, you know. He hates you as much as you think. You dragged him into Hell with your teeth and left him there to rot." My teeth clenched. "So what? Who gives a toss about him anymore?  He deserves every inch, every claw, every blood stained demon in your army. He can scream for mercy for a hundred years, like I did. He can see what it's like to be left for dead with nobody to hear you beg. "  I could feel myself ranting now, voicing  every futile thought in my head since I had last seen her.  " He ruined me. And now, you have no weapon against me. Because, guess what, sister dear? I frankly don't give a damn about that boy. " And with that, I pushed myself to my feet, and walked away.

I found myself at the ruin of my old house,  the blackened ruin cutting the sky. So long ago, after Agrona left me for her own dream world, with no words, and no trust, I was left to battle the onlookers.  At eight years old, I was no match for the adults trying to trip me up, trying to get me to tell them how she would tear at her face, her hair, her clothes, if I tried to talk to her anymore. First, they would knock on the door, asking pertinent questions and asking if my mother was in, dear? When I slammed the door shut on one unbelievably nosy old woman's fingers, they sent us hate mail, excrement in every one. Lunatic. Madwoman. Dangerous. Abomination. I read every single one before my parents could, and burned them all, watching the swirling letters crumple into ash. Eventually, they took torches to the house, trying to send a message.  It would seem that fascination with fire passed to Agrona; the destroyed shell of my most recent house was a town mystery and story, which I heard being elaborated on every street corner.

I shuddered as the memories flooded in of that time. They whispered to me, splitting my head down its seam, strumming at my ribs. I coughed, and a thin stream of blood hit my palm.  Then,  my eyes shut of their own accord, and I saw what I had seen so long ago.

I was 12 at the time when she snapped. My parents had been imprisoned two years ago, for harbouring a danger to the town.  I hadn't seen Agrona for three, since she had taken to her room and bolted four bolts against me.  I had, in effect, been living alone for all that time, and had grown used to the peace. The screaming didn't reach me anymore, or the heartbreaking sobbing from her room. The silences and the swearing passed over my head as they had done every day for the past years.

Suddenly, as I was walking past the door, preparing to take a bath,  the bolts slid back, slowly,  cutting into the wood of the door. I froze in horror, deciding whether to run or reason with her. I chose the latter, and squared up to the opening door, shutting my eyes. Then, she pulled me into her room and slammed the door behind me. The room was a mess of paper, illegible words marking every possible surface.  The words spread up the walls, marched over the mirrors, both of which were smashed, and hung from the ceiling.  She looked wild. Her hair, once so beautiful and curled, hung in tangled skeins around her face, and her eyes never settled on me, sliding from my face to something behind me.  The smell clung to everything, and my eyes watered, demanding my sleeve over my nose. She had become an animal.  She never spoke. Not once. All she did was hand me a sheet of paper, the words cutting into the paper, but legible. Then, she pushed me down by the shoulder, so I was sat on the floor, and pushed my head down so I could read the words on the paper.

 

The End

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