09-07-2016, 12:03 AM
She struggles to find herself in this moment and all moments before the mountain had come. Her words and actions lately do not even feel like hers, or that she is even really living and breathing the air she breathes. It’s hard for her to recognize which way to go, which direction is the one she wants to follow. There are a million paths she can take, but to decide which one is the right one is the hardest decision of all. She does not want to be like them—her family and those that have caused this chaotic change in Beqanna.
But, in all honesty and something she would never admit, she might be one of them. She might be the thing she hates the most, the one that she tries terribly not even be. It would break her, when and if she does realize it, knowing that she is the monster deep inside her own heart—in the shadows that holds all her secrets and lies. So instead of facing herself, which she should have been doing long ago, she turns to those she finds horrible and selfish (but might be likely in their own right to be and have the things they want) and wishes to destroy them all.
She only stands in silence in his words—his accusations punch her in the stomach, and she is choking for the thin air around her. Lucrezia struggles to find the words because he tells the truth. Never did she have a right to say something, especially since she has jumped to the gun and accused the monster of things she doesn’t even know about. Then again, she could be right, but it would be terribly off if she was right in the first place.
“No, I don’t know what is planned for this-,” she pauses for a moment, unsure of what to even call it, “new life of ours.” She doesn’t even know what even caused it, what gods determined the magic of Beqanna and everything that held it together. There is only one thing she knows—she cannot be who she was before the mountain came. “All I know is there is something we, maybe not all of us, that need to change.” She says softly, wondering if there was even a chance to make up for everything they, them, or her have done.
Envy—it coiled her heart, straining it tight and hardly letting it beat. It was a dangerous emotion to feel, and likely so could kill every part of who she was. But, Lucrezia, feels, and hopefully knows, she would never do that. Maybe that is why she must get rid of all the parts of her that hold her back now. She must remove her frustration and grieve for the loss of everything before she can began anew.
“I thought I had given everything and deserved what I had achieved,” but she had been wrong in that matter. She had her wings, her home, and friends taken from her. She was part of the problem to begin with—she had forgotten their warning, their lessons to her all those years ago. “I am jealous because I don’t know if I can ever get back that was taken from me. I lost everything.” She pauses just for a moment. “I lost my home and the wings that made me feel free, but what I don’t know is why or what I did to deserve this.” And she wants someone to tell her why, but she might never know that.
But, in all honesty and something she would never admit, she might be one of them. She might be the thing she hates the most, the one that she tries terribly not even be. It would break her, when and if she does realize it, knowing that she is the monster deep inside her own heart—in the shadows that holds all her secrets and lies. So instead of facing herself, which she should have been doing long ago, she turns to those she finds horrible and selfish (but might be likely in their own right to be and have the things they want) and wishes to destroy them all.
She only stands in silence in his words—his accusations punch her in the stomach, and she is choking for the thin air around her. Lucrezia struggles to find the words because he tells the truth. Never did she have a right to say something, especially since she has jumped to the gun and accused the monster of things she doesn’t even know about. Then again, she could be right, but it would be terribly off if she was right in the first place.
“No, I don’t know what is planned for this-,” she pauses for a moment, unsure of what to even call it, “new life of ours.” She doesn’t even know what even caused it, what gods determined the magic of Beqanna and everything that held it together. There is only one thing she knows—she cannot be who she was before the mountain came. “All I know is there is something we, maybe not all of us, that need to change.” She says softly, wondering if there was even a chance to make up for everything they, them, or her have done.
Envy—it coiled her heart, straining it tight and hardly letting it beat. It was a dangerous emotion to feel, and likely so could kill every part of who she was. But, Lucrezia, feels, and hopefully knows, she would never do that. Maybe that is why she must get rid of all the parts of her that hold her back now. She must remove her frustration and grieve for the loss of everything before she can began anew.
“I thought I had given everything and deserved what I had achieved,” but she had been wrong in that matter. She had her wings, her home, and friends taken from her. She was part of the problem to begin with—she had forgotten their warning, their lessons to her all those years ago. “I am jealous because I don’t know if I can ever get back that was taken from me. I lost everything.” She pauses just for a moment. “I lost my home and the wings that made me feel free, but what I don’t know is why or what I did to deserve this.” And she wants someone to tell her why, but she might never know that.
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