Pounding footsteps erupt in a looming forest of darkness. I remain numb to the freezing wind and branches that scorch my skin and I become fearful again. Winter bites into my flesh like shattered glass in a kaleidoscope of horror while its white crystals plunge from the dark sky, shining brightly against the shadows of the tall evergreens. My footsteps drown all of them out, leaving only a vague blur—the remains of my world underneath the weight of indifference.
The monster is behind me, clutching a crude shard crusted with crimson. I force myself to run away. I know what it will do to me. I can see myself lying on the ground—paved with my own blood while the snow beneath me suddenly becomes a slushy mess. I can see myself as an empty shell—already cracked open, lying in the snow that freezes me. I can see myself with empty eyes—blank and glassy. Instinct fuels my speed, blocking out the blades that scrape my skin and freeze my hands as I run faster than my scarred feet should carry me.
The hunter is cruel and hideous; not on the surface, but in his motives. He carries a sword, seeking for death as he chases me—judgement made before trial. I can hear his footsteps dancing to my rapidly accelerating heartbeat simultaneously.
I can escape. Spreading out my wings, I let the wind carry me high into the rich, indigo sky, pulling me away from the hunter and closer to the vivid …show more content…
The kids who call me names. The kids who make me hurt. The kids who send me home with a salty river carving into my face. They are not so different from that hunter; they judged me for my differences. Am I not human? Do I not feel pain when my hand is pierced? Do I not cry when I am upset? I am not that different! The only difference is that I have a different skin colour from them. So for now, I am always running from the monsters. But one day, they will finally learn what it feels like to be judged by hunters of
The monster is behind me, clutching a crude shard crusted with crimson. I force myself to run away. I know what it will do to me. I can see myself lying on the ground—paved with my own blood while the snow beneath me suddenly becomes a slushy mess. I can see myself as an empty shell—already cracked open, lying in the snow that freezes me. I can see myself with empty eyes—blank and glassy. Instinct fuels my speed, blocking out the blades that scrape my skin and freeze my hands as I run faster than my scarred feet should carry me.
The hunter is cruel and hideous; not on the surface, but in his motives. He carries a sword, seeking for death as he chases me—judgement made before trial. I can hear his footsteps dancing to my rapidly accelerating heartbeat simultaneously.
I can escape. Spreading out my wings, I let the wind carry me high into the rich, indigo sky, pulling me away from the hunter and closer to the vivid …show more content…
The kids who call me names. The kids who make me hurt. The kids who send me home with a salty river carving into my face. They are not so different from that hunter; they judged me for my differences. Am I not human? Do I not feel pain when my hand is pierced? Do I not cry when I am upset? I am not that different! The only difference is that I have a different skin colour from them. So for now, I am always running from the monsters. But one day, they will finally learn what it feels like to be judged by hunters of