Playing with the sword, I absentmindedly traced the edge with my fingers, feeling the cold steel under my touch. I wasn't really focusing on the sword, though; my mind was far away, lost in thought. "It feels... Real," I murmured, almost to myself. "Like I am there, in the moment. Not as the dead, but as... someone else entirely. Someone alive. I'm there, witnessing the death of that person, helpless, unable to do anything to stop it." My voice faltered slightly, and I sighed deeply, trying to shake off the heaviness of the thought. "And it's a lot to digest. It's hard to swallow when I know for sure that I can't do anything to stop that person's death! I can't change a single thing, and that's what makes it worse, you know?" I paused, my fingers tightening around the sword's hilt. "I just... I wish I could make a difference. But it's impossible. And that, right there, is what breaks me."
There was a deep silence following my words. The air felt thick, heavy with the weight of everything unsaid. No one said anything, probably giving me the space I needed. They left me in my zone, where my thoughts unraveled faster than I could keep track of them. Each piece of that memory, of that helplessness, gnawed at me, and I couldn't find the right words to explain it.
After what felt like an eternity, I spoke again, my voice quieter, but with a subtle edge to it. "Now, about what the two of you asked me before," I began, trying to ground myself. "You've never known about me being able to fight like this." I raised the sword in my hand, pointing the end of it toward them almost like an unspoken challenge. "The thing is, my family... well, they decided that it would be far too embarrassing for the house if people knew that I could fight better than most men." I let out a bitter laugh, shaking my head slightly. "So they kept it hidden. Kept it from everyone, including those who might have been able to see the real me."
Rebekka's expression shifted slightly, a mix of confusion and frustration painting her face. She opened her mouth, probably to protest, but I could see the question already forming in her mind. "But why did you agree with that?" she asked, her voice full of disbelief.
I let out a slow, deep sigh. It felt like a release, even if only for a moment. "You don't get it, do you?" I responded, my voice heavy with frustration. "My entire family loathes me, Rebekka. They hate me. They blame me for the deaths of my mother, my sisters, my half-sisters, and my grandparents. They all believe I'm the one who caused it. And I know that they blame me because they need someone to blame, someone they can point their anger at. And I can't fault them for it, because in their eyes, I am the reason for all the pain they've suffered." My voice cracked a little as I spoke, a bitter laugh escaping me, though I wasn't amused. "I feel terrible for all the pain I caused them, even though I know in my heart that I didn't cause any of it."
The silence that followed my words was oppressive. The air seemed thick, like it was pressing down on me from all sides. I felt Rebekka's eyes on me, her gaze softening slightly, but I wasn't ready to stop yet. I wasn't finished.
I took a breath, steadying myself. "The best I could do... was to obey them, to listen to their wishes, no matter how much it hurt. They could scream at me, beat me, make me feel smaller than dirt, and I wouldn't hate them for it. I wouldn't say a word back. I took it all, because that was the only way I could survive it. And as much as I wish I could say I didn't care, I know I can't. I don't trust them, not even a little. But, I still love them. They're my family. Even if they don't want to be." I let out a small, dry giggle, a hollow sound. "I've been treated like this since I was 3 or 4 years old, Rebekka. Since I was just a little kid, I've had to endure it."
In the background, the dogs let out a sound—one that was grating, almost like a growl, but I didn't pay them any mind. Adonis's voice cut through the quiet then, and his usual rude tone grated on me like nails on a chalkboard. "Then why change now?" he asked, his voice full of judgment.
I turned toward him, meeting his gaze. The frustration I'd been holding inside came spilling out, and I didn't care how it sounded. "I think seeing my death, Adonis, that changed me. It changed a lot in me, you know?" My voice was sharp, my words tinged with sarcasm and irritation. "But I'm guessing none of you would understand what I mean, would you?" I narrowed my eyes, almost daring him to say something. "For 19 years, I held it all in. Every thought, every feeling, every desire. Everything I wanted, everything I dreamed of, buried deep inside. I blamed myself for having these cursed eyes, as if they were the reason for all of it. As if I had asked for any of it. And all of you, you just mistreated me. Treated me like I was nothing."
I picked up four daggers from the ground, feeling their familiar weight in my hands. I left the sword where it was and began throwing them one by one at the farthest target. The motion helped calm me, giving me something else to focus on as I spoke. It was like I could only release what was inside me through action, through something physical, because if I didn't, I might drown in it.
"It's like you all forgot I'm a human being," I continued, my voice quieter now but no less intense. "I'm not some tool you can discard when I no longer fit into your plans. I have my own thoughts, my own feelings. But you all ignored that. It's like you believed I would forever stay submissive to your anger, to your cruelty. But I couldn't take it anymore. I couldn't keep pretending I was okay with being the target of all your rage. I couldn't keep living like that. I needed to take control of my life, to live for myself before it was too late. And if you think it was easy for me, if you think I didn't feel every second of it, you're wrong." My voice cracked slightly as I paused, taking in a breath. "52 years," I lied, "52 years is all I have."
The words hung in the air, and I could see the girl's expression soften. A flicker of something passed over her face—relief, maybe? But the dogs... they didn't buy it. Their eyes were sharp, unblinking, staring straight at me. They saw through my lie.
They saw me for what I was. And somehow, I couldn't bring myself to care. I almost respected their ability to see through me, to understand my mask. It made me feel exposed, sure, but it also made me feel seen in a way I wasn't used to.
With a heavy sigh, I continued, my voice barely above a whisper. "Considering I don't want to get married so soon, I'll probably never meet my grandchildren. And even if I do, I won't get to see them grow up, to witness the things I never got to. I won't be there for them. And that's something I'll never get back. I've already lost so much time. So many things I wanted for myself... and now I'll never have them."
The realization hit me harder than I thought it would, and I could feel the lump in my throat growing, threatening to choke me. The world I had always dreamed of, the life I had imagined, was slipping further and further away from me. And no matter what I did, I couldn't reach it. It was gone, just like everything else I'd lost.
With the time I have left... I won't even get the chance to have my own children. I won't get to experience what others take for granted. I'll never get to be the person I could have been. And that's something I can't change.
I felt the sting of the reality deep in my chest, and the tears I'd been holding back threatened to fall. But I swallowed them down. I had no time for weakness now. Not when the world had already taken so much from me.