HELEN
Then it starts, the thing that I worry about the most. As the memories replay themselves in a loop in front of my eyes, so realistic I could almost touch the cold and lifeless bodies of my people, I feel it. I feel it now as I felt then. After I feel the bitter pang of sorrow, it comes.
Anger, rage so pure it can melt through all the sorrow I feel. Anger so potent I know it can turn this world over and on its head. Anger so bitter that it can set this world ablaze. I feel it now as I felt is then, anger so pure, anger so unadultered, anger that I feel to be most justified.
My entire tribe, my people, my family, my home, wrecked beyond recognition, defiled of their honor, abused to the point of self-loathing and wishes for death. Slaughtered because we cannot fight back, abused because of our vows. This anger, this anger so white hot. The more I remember the events of those days, the bigger it grows.
