The Whispers are getting louder. So, so much louder.
-

They laugh, they remind me of everything I try so hard to forget.

All the failures. All the times that I was thrown into the dirt.

The times that I lost. The times that I was beaten.
-

They belittle my success. What little of it I have.

It’s not good enough. It’s worthless.

No one cares. No one knows who I am.

That I do not matter.
-

That nothing I do matters.
-

Ever since that night. That night I relive in my nightmares.

The night mom was gutted and painted her favorite dresser.

The night dad laid in the living room, the shattered remains of his sword sticking out of the floor.

That night, everything went black.
-

That night, something snapped.
-

Something very precious. Something that I should treasure, snapped.
-

When I woke up, the entire house was on fire.

The trees were on fire. The bodies were ash and bone.

The entire village, was burned to nothing.

And that demon’s head was in my hands.
-

I buried more than my parents that night.

The tears owed to the rest of my life were shed that night.

The me of the past is still in that ashen village.
_

When I came here, you saw me as some orphan.

Some unfortunate kid just like you.

You said I was strong. That I had potential.

That I would be able to achieve what I wanted.
-

I didn’t believe you. Why would I?

I’ve barely been able to kill anything of note, just little demons in the wilderness.

Nothing important. Nothing of note.

Thrown around, tossed around in the mud for my efforts.
-

But you still believed in me. One of the few that cared enough.

One of the few that checked on me every time you saw me.

Asked how I was doing. Encouraging me.
-

Giving me that push I didn’t know I needed.
-

I wasn’t deserving of that love. Not something like me.

You gave me a place that I could return to. You even promised me your home.

Said that it was my home too. That I belonged there.

I denied you. Said that I wasn’t actually your daughter.
-

‘You’ll come around.’
-

I hear those words in my sleep. The Whispers won’t let me forget.
-

Both of you are gone now.

Demons.

It’s always demons.
-

For the second time.

I lost both my parents to demons.
-

It hurts.

It hurts so much.
-

The words that I wanted to say to you. The feelings that I bottled up because I was scared.

Scared that once I said them, I wouldn’t be able to let go of you.

That I wouldn’t be able to live without you.

Words and feelings that I kept in my heart. Until I built up the courage to…

To call you ‘Dad’.
-

But now I don’t get to say it. I don’t get to peek past those sunglasses to see your reaction.

I don’t get to tell you I might have found just a small sliver of happiness.

That I might have found just a sliver of strength.

I don’t get to say any of that.
-

I learned to read recently. I’m not very good at it yet. Still slow.

But I was going to show you. I was going to try to get praise from you.

I wanted to see what you would have looked at me with.

Maybe surprise, since I couldn’t before.

Maybe amusement, because it was silly.

Maybe…hopefully…pride.

I was hoping it was pride.

I wanted you to be proud.
-

The first words I read on my own, was your epitaph.

‘For what was not recognized in life,

May this chronicle last until erosion’s erosion.’

I could recite the whole thing.
-

I miss you.

I miss all of you.
-

I must be broken. Something must be wrong.
-
I felt something else snap inside.
I can feel the frayed ends of the threads.
I can feel the hollow void where you were.

Why?

Why won’t any tears fall?

Why?

It’s so much worse than it was before. I didn’t know it could get worse.

I didn’t know it would hurt this much.

I didn’t know how tiring it was.

How sickening it was.
-

I’m going to rip them apart. I’m going to flay their scalps.

Skin them alive. Break their bones. Feed them their own guts.

Shatter their teeth. Rip off their limbs. Gouge out their eyes.

Burn their flesh. Burn them to ash.

And spit on what remains.
-

I’m going to enjoy this. I know I am.

I’m going to enjoy the sounds they make. Their cries. Their pain.

The thought that I can inflict just a fraction of this pain on them brings a smile to my face.

They deserve little else, than an agonizing end.

Death will be a mercy.
-

It’s only a matter of time, before I catch up to them.

It’s only a matter of time, before I stand on their throats.

It’s only a matter of time, before they all will die.
-

I’m just going to speed up the clock.

You’d better pray, that you’re not in front of me

When the hand strikes twelve.