I could never quite figure out how the world does it, but that's not what matters right now. She's right there behind me, I don't know why. Claudia won't stop staring at me. I cannot fathom how I'm supposed to do anything right now. Claudia isn't human. She's 7 foot tall but she looks short because of the fact her bones are so unstable that her whole body can twist and bend to the point she can make herself look like a child somehow. Her jaw is broken, her mouth hangs wide open with her crooked, bloodied teeth in all their glory. Her tattered black hair moves so unnaturally, in a way that makes it seem as if wind is constantly blowing at her. It doesn't help that her skin is slowly disintegrating and has lost colour. She just stands stillâŠpeering at me with her wide, snake-like eyes. I keep looking back and she doesn't move an inch. I don't know why she's there, but until she leaves, I can't leave this chair, I must keep writing. I know Claudia won't hurt me, I think it's best if I tell you through a little story.
Annette is a 9-year-old girl who has just lost her mother. Her family were refugees living in Great England from Africa to escape slavery, but her mother had been arrested 2 months after they arrived. There was such little job opportunity for the lower class that Annette's mother had to resort to stealing from a local bakery every evening when the stall owner went to milk her cows. She was caught fairly quickly. She was arrested and her sentence took away 7 years of her freedom. Not by jail, she instead was going to be part of James Cook's fleet. Annette never saw her mother again. The owner of the bakery had to shut down her business since most of her cows were dead and her supplies were depleted, she had nothing left. Annette had stolen the last bit of bread she had left. The owner was not dumb, she knew who was continuing to take the last of what she had left. A few nights after shutting down her stall, she found Annette sleeping under a tree which her footprints lead to. She woke Annette, then she slashed Annette's throat before gouging her eyes out. She didn't care about the screams, she wasn't even mad about her business, she just did that because that's how Claudia was created to be. Guards of the Church rushed towards the sounds of the screams, finding Claudia soaked in blood. Claudia swiftly dashed and took one of the guard's weapons, shortly before smashing in her own jaw and slitting her own throat.Â
I know Claudia won't hurt me because she's not real. I wrote that story a while back after hearing about a young girl losing both her parents, having become prisoners of James Cook. Yet Claudia is still here, still having not moved an inch. I guess I wrote that story because it got me thinking about how unfair and unclearly double-sided the world can be. If Annette and her mother hadn't stolen from Claudia, they would've starved, but that took away everything Cluadia had. They were thieves who destroyed a life, but were they not doing what they had to do? I don't know. It makes me think about my own decisions in life, how maybe the things I can do that benefit me may be detrimental to others. Like how my decision to write these stories brings me inner peace, but they disturb my mother, who hates the fact I even try to make a living doing this, and also just despises the nature of my stories. She says I bring shame on my family and that I must go back to education and work to try to get a job serving the Church (regardless of its corruption). At 17 I can barely think of a world where I do any "job" that isn't writing my little stories. I think Claudia is gone now, finally, I can get out of this chair and sleep.