Mother and I have sore backs from sleeping on the ground. Father’s skin and fat comforted him throughout the night, but we do not have that fortune. We rose from our beds to a small farm already being constructed. Mother and Father went to gather berries, but I stayed and helped to construct the fence that would hold our food eventually. Gathering is too calm of a chore for me. My mind wonders to places unknown when sounds do not encompass my brain, unlike the work of sawing and breaking wood. Without it, I would be nothing, a plant that sits by and looks helpful, but once touched, boils your skin because too much is held within it’s quarters, poison that lies just beyond eyes. I wish to be that never, so my ears will bleed with the clashing of hands to splinters, because without I will do nothing but confuse my people more than what I have already caused. I must go now, a hut for the newborn but a week old is needed, she will not be able to survive what seems to be an upcoming storm on the horizon. No matter how light, her frail body will succumb to cold in less than a hour.
Father has passed, he was taken by a pack of wolves. From what mother says, they ripped out his chest and heart first, so I can only hope it was quick for him. Mother came back holding a slightly mangled hand and a face splashed with red. She was quiet until I asked where Father had gone, then she bursted out in tears and screams rang from her throat,
“They have taken him!” she yelled, “They have taken him!”
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It took at least a hour before I learned who “them” were, and when I learned of it she asked something of me me.
“My child, you have identified those who have tried to take your life before, and you have smite them from this world. I now ask of you to do the same for the beasts who have taken your father away from us. The mawls tore flesh from his face and lungs from his body. It looked more painful than the night of your birth, so please punish these creatures with your light of god and bring justice to my love,”
I wanted to help her, but there was no reason for murder when it was justifed, “They are beasts, you are right when you say that, “ I explained, “That is why they did what they did. They ate his flesh because their own was tight to their skin. They ate his stomach because their’s ached with hunger. They are animals, just like us, and just like us, they need to eat. They had reason. They have children of their own, and they need to be fed. Father was a bull to them, and their meal had walked up right to them. I cannot kill you for eating bull, because you need eat like them. I’m sorry, but those wolves did nothing bu have dinner,”
Her wails filled the night air, and no one slept as Mother cursed me to God for not revenging my father. I know she is hurting, but its hard not to have frustration build as my own mother swore I was a demon. She has finally fallen asleep. I will try to do the same, but her screams still ring in my ears as I wonder if I really am a monster. Have I taken God’s job in my own hands, rather than the children I led to be murdered? I pray they tell me in my dreams tonight, whether it is filled with light, or fire and pain.