If life were kind, then I would be able to slip away...I would be able to melt into the shadows and flee far away from here (from reality) and become lost in the wildness of my own mind. Of course, if life were truly just that kind, then there would be a lot of things different (I would never have put myself in this situation in the first place, I wouldn’t have the scars of hungry men carved across my back, and I would still have the one thing that has ever given me true happiness). No—life is not kind. It is not fair, and it is certainly not predictable.
I focus on my breaths, trying not to pay attention to the tightness in my throat, and how it hitches every inhale like a gasp (a soundless, tearless sob). I can hear the pounding of my heart, feel it against my ribs, and if it were possible for me to throw up, then I would already be gagging. I’m in too deep. I lament, crying pity for myself among the hum of pleasant conversations and this sweet, fanciful atmosphere.
The sudden arrival of someone else startles me. I hadn’t noticed her among the other crowd of bodies, too preoccupied with trying to disappear, and shoulder the weight that twists painfully in my chest. I gasp with a shudder that shivers down my spine, the curtain of my forelock surging to the side as I lift my head in a quick and graceless motion. She asks if I’m Mihtal (and I can tell by her cheery demeanor that she does not know my language, does not know the title of disgrace and shame that I have been branded with).
“Yes,” I nearly stutter, resisting the urge to lie. “Myrrine, isn’t it?” I ask her with a quick tone that perhaps can be perceived as cold, but I really just want to get it over with—already I feel my head swirling dizzyingly, her next words almost lost against the barricades I’ve built. “Umm...” I can feel my breaths becoming quicker, more urgent, and I try to quell the panic in an effort of normalcy. “Where are you from?” I barely register what it is I’ve said...I just want the attention off of me.
notes; I know I went a little over the word count, I'm sorry!<33 I'll try to be better.
“Speech.”
We build it up, we tear it down
We leave our pieces on the ground
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