Post by Deleted on Jan 1, 2015 2:11:55 GMT 1
Taia
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Location | Øens vestkyst[Det følgende er del 1 af en serie på 3 kortere stykker, som beskriver nogle af de faser, som Taia gennemgik kort efter sin død. Undlad venligst at svare på dem, da det ikke er meningen.Time | Sene aftentimer, samme dag som 'Denial'
Tag | None
After denial came anger. An all consuming feeling of rage and hatred at her situation, mingled with the sadness and horror of it all.
What had she done to deserve it? What had she done to deserve to die like she had? To be ripped from the world she had come to love so much, not to talk about the individuals she had allowed into her heart. Those she had taken care of and those who had taken care of her; what was the meaning of ripping her away from those? What was the meaning behind such sadness and despair!?
After her meeting with Altaïr, the stallion who had perhaps not stolen her heart, but indeed held it, she had wandered the isle, denying it all. She couldn’t be dead, she had told herself that over and over again, but she was. There was no way for her to not be it and proof had come soon enough. How she had managed to wander the island thin in less than a day was a mystery to the scarred doe, but she had eventually found herself… her own corpse. It had been a morbid sight to her, but she had stood there and looked for what seemed like hours regardless of it. She couldn’t get her eyes away from herself, for she did not remember it. She didn’t remember any of it… why didn’t she remember? She wanted to remember, desperately, but couldn’t…
What had happened afterwards was little more than a blur to her, but she had left her body behind and wandered to the coast. What she had hoped to find, she did not know, but denial and horror had subsided and had become anger instead. Anger which burned hotter and hotter as memories started to return to her. She still did not remember it all when she had started her raging shouts, but she remembered enough. Remembered the meeting, the task…. the binding meeting. The pain. All of the pain...
”Why didn’t you help me!” she shouted, having no feelings of tears this time, for the dead did not weep; such luxury only belonged to the living. How she felt angry at them too in these moments; why did they have to live, to walk the earth, when she was apparently not allowed? ”WHY DIDN’T YOU SAVE ME!” The mare was pacing the beach, walking here and there without a real sense of direction, as she continued to scream and shout whatever her missing heart contented. ”Have I ever forsaken you, Orctics? Is that why you refuse to save me in my time of need, when you heeded my missing call the last time?” Flicking her tail, the doe whipped around on her hooves, before stamping her front ones into the damp sand, her body of nothingness doing little to the sand.
Her anger continued into the night, but eventually she began to lack the energy needed to sustain it. She couldn’t stay angry forever either way; it was not her nature to be ill tempered and eventually sadness overwon her again and the anger that had burned like a raging fire, like the very fire which had burned her so badly, became little more than ashes. Dying, withering away in the cool night air.
Finally, as little more than a dying whisper, she mumbled her final words of anger: ”Did I die to cover your mistake…?”
