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Rated: E · Letter/Memo · Dark · #1652215
A glimpse into my early life.
Childhood is such an innocent time in someone's life.
I remember it being so distant, resentful and so dirty.
I remember juveniles, young and old, with belittlement as their weapon.

I remember awaking with the sun.
Looking up at the bland white ceiling, wanting it to crumble.
Wishing that Night was here instead, engulfing me in its oblivion.

I lived out in the country, where people owned plenty of land.
The mountains were so gorgeous, especially in the morning.
In the morning, they were tinted with Dawn's blend of yellow and red.

Morning always arrived with its crisp, bitter air.
Piercing my lungs and aching my head.
I loved it - Nature's control. I was safe in Nature's resentful embrace.

And I arrived in the hallowed halls of hollow Education.
It was run by those who had hearts as harsh as Wind's knife.
With children that weren't children, but brutal animals who maul apart souls.

Looking at me now, there's not much difference after all.
The public life which I lead, is similar to those beside me.
The private life which I lead is disturbing and gruesome to those beside me.

Although the burdens I carry are heavy and unsettling,
I try to remember my invisible childhood as unclear as I can.
But the mountains are so far now.

I don't remember how the lazy sun blankets its rays on my face,
And I can't recall how many more colours Dawn can hold.
I just remember the hurt in my heart when she spat on me and laughed.

I remember the pain of others mocking me when I fell,
Ignoring me when I stood back on my feet, taller than them.
Striking me when I was weak.

I don't want to remember these things.
I want to remember Nature holding me,
Cradling me in its cold, safe arms.

I don't want to remember the cold of the blade against my wrists,
Or the friction of the rope around my neck.
I want to remember the mountains. 

And the mountains are so far now.
I long to see them one last time,
Before he takes me.

I'm the only one who can see him, smell his poison stench.
The only one who knows when to fear him
Quivering in his ugly presence.

Remembering the mountains takes me away
From him standing over me with his scythe.
His thin lips dripping with hunger as he licks it away.

I'll go back there, before I'm gone.
I'll go back and close my eyes in Nature's embrace.
And I'll open my eyes again.  The mountains won't be so far now.
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