01-27-2017, 09:25 PM
Atrani
May you never see evil.
The words stick like glue, thorns pressed into her side. They burn, they stab, they hurt.
May you never see the horrors of the world.
That’s the reassurance of a mother who doesn’t yet know how to handle a child that truly cannot see, that cannot take those as words of advice. The stinging truth rips fresh wounds into her soul daily as she realizes everyone else can see, but she cannot. Mother’s voice was meant to be loving, but Atrani noted the repulsion and the agony in her voice. The child had said nothing as the clamor of rage and defiance rippled through her eardrums for the very first time. Atrani’s first breaths – first minutes – in this world were made bitter by angst, regret, and jealousy.
She will never forget it.
Mother is conflicted in whether she wants a child that plays as a cruel reminder of her sins. Motherhood isn’t her forte, she claims, and she debates whether to follow in her family’s footsteps or actually play a role in her daughter’s life.
May you never see evil. That’s how she welcomed her newborn into this forsaken world – by solidifying the fact that Atrani will never see evil, or even good, or nothing at all.
The reminder bites her again and forces another sharp, jagged turn into nowhere and nothing. Mother is in the trees, silently observing, and Atrani is wandering her world of black nothingness. She follows voices, dodges footsteps, brushes her muzzle across grass. Handicapped, but unstoppable, hindered but not trapped. A breath of air is drawn in and she takes pause, imagining the evils that she will never see and the lying faces she will never witness.
The words stick like glue, thorns pressed into her side. They burn, they stab, they hurt.
May you never see the horrors of the world.
That’s the reassurance of a mother who doesn’t yet know how to handle a child that truly cannot see, that cannot take those as words of advice. The stinging truth rips fresh wounds into her soul daily as she realizes everyone else can see, but she cannot. Mother’s voice was meant to be loving, but Atrani noted the repulsion and the agony in her voice. The child had said nothing as the clamor of rage and defiance rippled through her eardrums for the very first time. Atrani’s first breaths – first minutes – in this world were made bitter by angst, regret, and jealousy.
She will never forget it.
Mother is conflicted in whether she wants a child that plays as a cruel reminder of her sins. Motherhood isn’t her forte, she claims, and she debates whether to follow in her family’s footsteps or actually play a role in her daughter’s life.
May you never see evil. That’s how she welcomed her newborn into this forsaken world – by solidifying the fact that Atrani will never see evil, or even good, or nothing at all.
The reminder bites her again and forces another sharp, jagged turn into nowhere and nothing. Mother is in the trees, silently observing, and Atrani is wandering her world of black nothingness. She follows voices, dodges footsteps, brushes her muzzle across grass. Handicapped, but unstoppable, hindered but not trapped. A breath of air is drawn in and she takes pause, imagining the evils that she will never see and the lying faces she will never witness.
dove into her eyes and starved all the fears
picture by haenuli shin- HTML by Call - words: ________
[Image: callwolf_zpsasro4cel.png]