unable to stop myself. The screaming reverberated through my brain, in every corner, the agony of loss consuming me, and gutting me with its cruel finality. Shock rooted me to the spot. And still I screamed, the sound anchoring my hate in this horrid place.
My sister was gone. So was my mother. Nothing could ever bring them back. They were lost to me. Forever. Nothing could change it. But there was one certainty I could cling to. War. Through the crimson haze of blood and hatred I made a vow. Vengeance. I wanted blood. I wanted revenge. I would inflict terrible pain and suffering upon those that did this. They would pay. I would spend my dying breath ensuring their fate.
I would later learn that this solitary incident ignited a flame of hatred that fueled the refugee movement. In that moment, I succumbed to the agony and torment, grief stricken for my mother and sister. The fight momentarily zapped from my body, I relented, releasing the pent up emotion, oozing, pouring out of me and heaping upon the tumultuous earth. Shaking, I clutched my sister’s body close to mine.
In the distance, I heard a rumble and the earth shook beneath me. Nothing would ever be the same again. Everything had changed. My cries of horrified anguish mingling with my shrill screams still echo in my brain today. They never diminish. They constantly linger. Ever present. Raw. A daily reminder that never leaves me. Always alive in my mind like an electric shock, coming to the surface of my skin, burning me like hot coals that make my fingers twitch. Reaching forward…grasping…I’m alone. And on nights like this, the memory still serves to fuel my fire, the fuel for revenge. I never let go. I never waiver. I never forget.
It’s at this point in my dream that I always awaken, the pain so vivid, so vibrantly real that I realize it’s my own screaming jolting me back into awareness, where trembling and covered in sweat, I try not to take my own life…
K.D. That’s the day I died. At least partially. Or I was reborn. It depended on your point of view. The answer didn’t matter to me. It’s the day everything changed. The day I decided I would do anything, the day I decided nothing was greater than the taste of vengeance. The taste of hatred. The taste of blood. Only one thing mattered now. One thing ruled me. One thing guided me. Revenge .
Chapter Four
It took almost a week to get well enough to leave Darren’s room. He slept on a cot every night insisting I stay in his bed until I was well. I succumbed to his insistence but I didn’t like it. It made me feel like I owed him now. Like I was indebted to him.
Although he was kind to me, there was a side of Darren that almost frightened me. A calculating self-interest that led his decisions. He had leverage on me now. I was certain he would use it at a time and place of his choosing, and I was pretty sure I was not going to like it one bit.
I needed to get back to work. Idleness didn’t suit me and I had way too much time to think in Darren’s room. My thoughts went to dark places when that happened. Places and dreams I would rather forget. People. My past. My family. I preferred to stay busy. Busy was good.
On the last night in his room, I decided to talk to him.
“Darren, I’m going back to my bunk tomorrow. I can’t stay here now that I am recovered. It’s not fair to keep you from your bed,” I told him honestly.
“I’m all right. Please stay as long as you need. I don’t mind, really I don’t.”
“I know Darren, people will talk…”
“Let them. It’s our business, not theirs. You don’t have to worry about me saying anything Lizzie,” he meant it but it didn’t change anything.
“I know that. I trust you. I just think it is time. I need to resume my duties. And…I want to be at the next raid,” I watched his reaction from the corner of my eye.
“I see,” his voice was low. Flat.
“Darren…I’m fine.”
The look on his face told me he doubted
My sister was gone. So was my mother. Nothing could ever bring them back. They were lost to me. Forever. Nothing could change it. But there was one certainty I could cling to. War. Through the crimson haze of blood and hatred I made a vow. Vengeance. I wanted blood. I wanted revenge. I would inflict terrible pain and suffering upon those that did this. They would pay. I would spend my dying breath ensuring their fate.
I would later learn that this solitary incident ignited a flame of hatred that fueled the refugee movement. In that moment, I succumbed to the agony and torment, grief stricken for my mother and sister. The fight momentarily zapped from my body, I relented, releasing the pent up emotion, oozing, pouring out of me and heaping upon the tumultuous earth. Shaking, I clutched my sister’s body close to mine.
In the distance, I heard a rumble and the earth shook beneath me. Nothing would ever be the same again. Everything had changed. My cries of horrified anguish mingling with my shrill screams still echo in my brain today. They never diminish. They constantly linger. Ever present. Raw. A daily reminder that never leaves me. Always alive in my mind like an electric shock, coming to the surface of my skin, burning me like hot coals that make my fingers twitch. Reaching forward…grasping…I’m alone. And on nights like this, the memory still serves to fuel my fire, the fuel for revenge. I never let go. I never waiver. I never forget.
It’s at this point in my dream that I always awaken, the pain so vivid, so vibrantly real that I realize it’s my own screaming jolting me back into awareness, where trembling and covered in sweat, I try not to take my own life…
K.D. That’s the day I died. At least partially. Or I was reborn. It depended on your point of view. The answer didn’t matter to me. It’s the day everything changed. The day I decided I would do anything, the day I decided nothing was greater than the taste of vengeance. The taste of hatred. The taste of blood. Only one thing mattered now. One thing ruled me. One thing guided me. Revenge .
Chapter Four
It took almost a week to get well enough to leave Darren’s room. He slept on a cot every night insisting I stay in his bed until I was well. I succumbed to his insistence but I didn’t like it. It made me feel like I owed him now. Like I was indebted to him.
Although he was kind to me, there was a side of Darren that almost frightened me. A calculating self-interest that led his decisions. He had leverage on me now. I was certain he would use it at a time and place of his choosing, and I was pretty sure I was not going to like it one bit.
I needed to get back to work. Idleness didn’t suit me and I had way too much time to think in Darren’s room. My thoughts went to dark places when that happened. Places and dreams I would rather forget. People. My past. My family. I preferred to stay busy. Busy was good.
On the last night in his room, I decided to talk to him.
“Darren, I’m going back to my bunk tomorrow. I can’t stay here now that I am recovered. It’s not fair to keep you from your bed,” I told him honestly.
“I’m all right. Please stay as long as you need. I don’t mind, really I don’t.”
“I know Darren, people will talk…”
“Let them. It’s our business, not theirs. You don’t have to worry about me saying anything Lizzie,” he meant it but it didn’t change anything.
“I know that. I trust you. I just think it is time. I need to resume my duties. And…I want to be at the next raid,” I watched his reaction from the corner of my eye.
“I see,” his voice was low. Flat.
“Darren…I’m fine.”
The look on his face told me he doubted
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