Of Winds And Quakes

20. The Dagger (1)

Year of the Lilies
Torrid Season
The Cabin
Altsas

Mavli

I DON'T KNOW IF I'M DEAD OR ALIVE. I can't tell the difference. I'm body is numb and unfeeling but I'm breathing and my heartbeat is strong. The tears have dried up on my face, the tight sensation is the only evidence that I have to proof that there were tears. I'm certain my eyes are bloodshot and swollen from crying and from the slaps I had received. The taskmaster rolls off my body and rises to his feet. I can't see him properly, I don't want to. My vision is blurred and cloudy because I have made it this way.

I hear the rustling of his clothes as he pulls them on. I lie unmoving on the ground. I'm supposed to be hurting, I'm supposed to be in tears but I don't cry and I don't feel the pain. The only thing I feel is a dull ache.

Once he is dressed, he picks up something on the floor next to me and throws it on me.

"Get dressed." His tone is flat, emotionless, and blank.

I don't move. I can't move. His ruthless hands grab me and drag me to my feet. "Get dressed," he snaps. And he pushes my trousers into my hands. I collect it and put it on, mindlessly dragging the trouser over my abused body.

He stands and stares at my naked torso for a few moments then walks to a cupboard that is just above the mattress. He opens it and peers in for a while before bringing out a grey calico shirt.

"Put this on, now." He pushes the shirt into my hands. It smells like him, I don't want his smell on me but I put it on, dragging it over my head, covering my shame.

He strides part me, bumping his shoulders with mine and I hear the bolt of his door slide open.

"Leave." He says the word with no emotion, his face is blank and expressionless.

I turn to face him and the tear drops. I won't forgive myself for crying in front of him.

"Please leave," now there is a tinge of annoyance and irritation.

I do not move. I can not move.

He groans and covers the distance between us with two long strides. His eyes burn with fury as his calloused palms wrap themselves around my neck.

"Didn't you hear what I said? Do you want me to kill you?!"

I gulp and the words come pouring out. "You can kill me, taskmaster. It will save me from the torment I'm going to suffer for the rest of my life! You have taken away my freedom, you have taken away my dignity, you might as well take away my life."

His hands fall limp from my neck to his sides. I see a dagger resting by the table. I race to it and grab it. "I'm going to stab myself!" I don't know what I'm doing, I'm not in control of my body. He rolls his eyes like I'm a bore to him.

My words don't mean anything to him, they don't strike a cord. This man has no soul. My presence only irks him the more. He growls and grits his teeth then grabs me by the wrists. My wails only become louder as he pushes me out of his cabin not minding that I'm still clutching his dagger in my hand. Disgusted by the dagger that belongs to him, I throw it a few feet away from me.

I sit outside his cabin on the damp ground, bury my face in my palms and weep. I have never felt so alone in my life like I do right now, I feel so dirty and desolate. I don't think I'd ever be able to live with myself, I don't think I'd ever forget that that heartless man touched me.

I'm scarred and branded for the rest of my life. He was inside me; he penetrated me and thrust himself inside me.

I know what I must do.

I'm so sorry, Alysia. You had loved me dearly for as long as I can remember. I'm sorry I had to give up like the coward I am but there is no way that I can move on.

I'm sorry mother, you loved me before I was even born. From the time of my conception till the last time we saw, all you have ever shown me was nothing but love. I'm sorry that I have to give up now.

I'm so sorry father. You had played with me, laughed with me, taught me and prayed with me. You had always shown me the right path to follow, the right way. You corrected me when I was wrong and praised me when I was right. I'm so sorry that I've let you down.

I take less than ten small steps to where the dagger lays, it's blade gleaming in the bright moonlight. The handle is cold, I wrap my hand around it with a tight grip. Then I walk to the streamlet, it was the only thing that made me feel whole. Tentatively, I take a few steps into the cold shallow water.

I have to do this. I won't be able to hold my head high ever again if I live.

I raise the dagger up. I'm going to stab myself in the stomach first and then, I'll cut my wrists and allow nature to take its course, I'm going to make sure I bleed to death.

The blade catches the bright silvery light of the crescent moon and reflects it. At least the last thing I'll see is a beautiful crescent moon.

And I lower the blade to my stomach but one thing changes everything.

"Wait!"

It takes my body forever to respond. My neck turns slowly to the direction of the voice. The very familiar voice. I know it like the back of my hand.

The person steps out from the darkness and into the moonlight. The pale glow casts upon the person's features.

I gasp.

The dagger falls to the streamlet with a small splash.

It can't be. Its not possible.

The angular, sharp edges.

The tiny copper curls.

The lean built.

The tall frame.

I don't hold back the cry.

Cirok.

DUN-DUN-DUN... Did you see that coming? I sure didn't. I am pretty sure you as eager as I am to see what happens next. Well, hold on tight and flip the pages to Part Two

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Cheers.

Your appreciative author, Lixxie.

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