An argument, that is all it took.
I barely remember what it was over, but I know we both said hurtful things. Where she could stomp off and return to a lavish home with a large family, I would have no recourse but to return to squalor. I do not think it was the argument alone that caused it, but a culmination of things that had made me desperate for a change. I lacked any training to understand my situation. The heated argument provided a glimmer of something within me; An alluring promise that I could become anything I wanted, if only I would reach out to take it. I was so overcome by indulging in that sensation that my instincts acted before my rational thought.
Valette was not a person to me, in those moments that my shiv stabbed her. She was... nothing an after image. A kind of promise that by doing this one thing my life can be better, that I can be better... I viewed her only as an illusion of the mind. I suppose, a mental barrier that stood between me and a new existence. It is hard to describe the trance I had succumbed to, but I cannot blame my situation alone on that. There was a desperation in me that fuelled that sinful act.
Only when the blood stained my hands did I regain my senses. But they were no longer my hands. The rough, course skin was gone. My chipped and broken nails had recovered with a sheen I had never seen with my own eyes before. I only noticed the body after satiating my own curious thoughts. On that hill in summer she lay dead, her blood fertilizing the undergrowth. I think I broke down crying, time was a blur. I was not even sure if I had done it, but my subconscious knew punished me justly. I could not take Valette home, I could not risk her family finding the body and punishing me accordingly.
So I hid her. My only friend and I made it so no one could ever grieve over her body.
It was only after frantically washing the blood from my skin and changing my rags that I noticed my altered reflection in the water.
I had stolen her face.
I barely remember what it was over, but I know we both said hurtful things. Where she could stomp off and return to a lavish home with a large family, I would have no recourse but to return to squalor. I do not think it was the argument alone that caused it, but a culmination of things that had made me desperate for a change. I lacked any training to understand my situation. The heated argument provided a glimmer of something within me; An alluring promise that I could become anything I wanted, if only I would reach out to take it. I was so overcome by indulging in that sensation that my instincts acted before my rational thought.
Valette was not a person to me, in those moments that my shiv stabbed her. She was... nothing an after image. A kind of promise that by doing this one thing my life can be better, that I can be better... I viewed her only as an illusion of the mind. I suppose, a mental barrier that stood between me and a new existence. It is hard to describe the trance I had succumbed to, but I cannot blame my situation alone on that. There was a desperation in me that fuelled that sinful act.
Only when the blood stained my hands did I regain my senses. But they were no longer my hands. The rough, course skin was gone. My chipped and broken nails had recovered with a sheen I had never seen with my own eyes before. I only noticed the body after satiating my own curious thoughts. On that hill in summer she lay dead, her blood fertilizing the undergrowth. I think I broke down crying, time was a blur. I was not even sure if I had done it, but my subconscious knew punished me justly. I could not take Valette home, I could not risk her family finding the body and punishing me accordingly.
So I hid her. My only friend and I made it so no one could ever grieve over her body.
It was only after frantically washing the blood from my skin and changing my rags that I noticed my altered reflection in the water.
I had stolen her face.
![[Image: dOmPfIR.png]](https://i.imgur.com/dOmPfIR.png)