The story of a crying soul.

She looked down from the place she was standing, a place of salvation she said, her life had been full of thorny roses, they had pricked her fingers but the blood drop created no snow, it was a jump from fire to fire with no cooling fan, there was no sign from God that every hardship she had endured was going to be over, she had let her hope and trust guide her all through trying not to let her fears rule her. She always knew a part of her was weaker and in doubt of what her purpose was, so today she had made her choice, a choice to forget everything and maybe experience the promised paradise, a chance to forget all her sorrows, all the pain and to give her eyes a chance to rest for had her tears not threatened to go extinct? She had waited for that light to shine bright if only for a moment, but darker and darker it got. One with no  story, no meaning, with just one choice she dressed on her best, went to her fantasy tower, at the top floor, spread her arms and even at the moment she wished for that light, eyes closed, she freed her heart, let go of her fears, up from the ground, flying to freedom. Not a voice to applause, to comfort, to warn her, she felt alone, like it had always been, but only now she had hope of a good place, a better mystery.  Pain had been her story; she was from a little village from the tribe of the people of journey that was what her mother had told her, for her tribes men had been known for walking long distances either for trade, search of water, or other errands. Her mother was a wise one, she had treated her and her siblings like queens and kings, her father was the drunken king, rich yes, but poor in morals, he only loved his wife and cared not for the bastards she had brought home, that is what he said. The old man had kept telling her how useless she was, she had ignored him at first but with time, she began to believe in his words, when her mama died, her world was blown apart, her pain more real than it had ever been. She wished it would stop, she wished the sun would shine brighter or just finally set, but no, only her moon grew darker and her nights longer, it was not stopping.  She always had been empty, with a longing for someone to fill the emptiness she felt, year after year she had endured her father’s abuse and the society demoralizing her, killing her confidence, a part of her knew she could do better, but how could she start? she had no dreams of a paradise, the days she had gone without food, the days she felt not pretty, the days she had slept out on the cold for fear of her father abusing her, the pain she had to endure so that her siblings would live a better life, all her pain and sorrows had taken all the joy she saw in her dreams, she only saw of monsters and demons. She, who was full of wonders, if only someone looked at her and saw that face, the face that knew of love, compassion, the face with the zeal to live, the face of victory, not the devastating desperate, disgusting face, not that ugly face.  so up she was to fly away from all the monsters and the demons that tormented her, to freedom, to songs of victory and comfort, to the arms of what awaited her, unknown to her was a prince watching, he who the terror of this world had shaken the good out of him, he that the world had given two faces, one to lure and one to devour, he had seen one like him but  in the verge of giving it up, this was a familiar occurrence to him, he had to punish or help this helpless girl, the kind that he knew needed help, so help he was to offer. He noticed the tears she wasn’t aware of, he saw the pain, with a sneer in his heart, disgust in his head, hate settled at the bottom of his stomach, excitement in his eyes and compassion in his face, he stretched his arms to save this tormented bird as she was about to fly, right on time, he pulled her to his arms and with a calm voice, he said,” there now, it’s all over.”  A voice, it is all what the crying soul thought of. A savior. Not aware of the awaiting terror.

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