Author: Sapphira Adi Marie PM
a young girl-her parents died in front of her by the hand of a gang- fated to suffer seclusion is told to find her half sister and get revenge for her parents. she cannot have friends or feelings. but what will she do when she runs into a boy who likes heRated: Fiction T - English - Hurt/Comfort/Tragedy - Words: 1,553 - Reviews: 1 - Favs: 1 - Follows: 1 - Published: 07-23-08 - id: 2549127
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A Tragic Tale of Orgos
The Diary of Hikira Tusomono
My world is a dark place. Where stone buildings are lined with moss, and falling. The sands that cover our feet are as red as blood, and my life in the city Orgos is not easy. My family that consists of my mother, father, and I face a trying time. We live in the aftermath of a great civil war. Where bandits and rogues fill the homes of those we once knew, and have never known.
My world of confusion is a place no one dares to enter, and everyone dies to leave. Some loose hope and enter where no one else ventures towards, a place called 'Peaceful Escape'. Those who go to this place of unhampered serenity, never return. Yet there is a reason that we go on living in chaos, 'Peaceful Escape' is a grave place indeed. Those who enter die. They enter a place leading not to Ceren or Schon, but to where only dreams exist.
Someday I may enter the 'Peaceful Escape', and then I don't have to suffer any more. Dreams aren't bad and it's better than dying only to go to Schon or another place even worse.
Somehow I know that my parents would be better off, mainly because our greatest danger is the Mask. The Mask is a gang of demons and evil sorcerers that go and terrorize the families of Orgos. They torture then kill the parents of children and leave them to fend for themselves, with deathly taunts ringing after them from the mouths of the demons. I don't want to put my parents or myself in that situation.
Orgos is dying, and so are we, so I tell you my story as it goes. From the dismal beginning to the end.
This memory is as bold during my retelling as it was before. This is what happened that day.
I was born to my mother a regular housewife, and my father, a doctor. I loved them both dearly. In the gloomy fall of my ninth year my parents and I were walking through the surrounding buildings of our old neighborhood, when the Mask attacked us. My mother grabbed my arms and swung me around and told me to run. I scampered forward and skidded along the broken rock road. I did not bother to look back. I knew better than that, even at my young age. I heard no scream or strike, only the patter of my feet and the pound of my heart in my ears. I wove through the streets and alleys avoiding corpses and rabid dogs. Dry tears came to my eyes and I kept running without a thought except 'move'.
After minutes of running I stopped when I came to reality, and realized that I was alone. Not my mother or the grotesque demons from the Masks. I slumped, and then cried. After years of struggle I did not know what to do. So I used my only instinct. I retraced my steps carefully to the street that was now unfamiliar. The sand steamed and the torn body of my mother stared at me. Running to her I stayed silent knowing that the mask would politely watch, and wait for a scream or tears. I bit my lip and caressed my mothers face as she let out a weak gasp. Then she said weakly. "Stay strong, make no friends, and look for your stepsister. I never told you but she lives on the outside of this village.
You must not cry. Do not show expression, and laws do not concern you now. All I want is for you to see your father off. He has already been led into a deep despair over my unexpected death. So he is headed toward the 'Peaceful Escape' do not stop him! The mask will kill you! May my spirit guide you. I love you my Hikira, now go."
Those were her last words. She was wise, and a dear mother I shall never forget. At the moment of her death, I was weak only once. Through my stone cold face one tear rolled down, and dropped frozen to the ground. A bouncing glass pearl, my life paralyzed in that tear.
I hesitantly left my dead mother, and started off to a place I knew I did not want to go, the 'Peaceful Escape'. Running, I felt, would drive my tears to the back of my mind, my thoughts to the front, and my courage out from hiding.
As I neared the 'Peaceful Escape' I heard the cackles and murmurs from a crowd of strangers. I stepped close to the border and peered into the surroundings of the utopia. That is when I saw my father. Standing and reaching to touch the trunk of the tree where he first met my mother. The tree blossomed and grew bright as a burning sunset and its cherry blossoms flourished in the light. For the 'Peaceful Escape' has no night, and no morning to wake to. Only to dream and to sleep, that was to be his death.
From afar I could see him clutch his heart and slide slowly down the trunk of the tree, brushing off memories from years ago. My heart pounded as I stood and watched my father slip into death. I could not stop him, I wouldn't know how.
In that moment I knew that I could not give up. Giving up was not an option, and failure to pursue revenge was cowardly. I would from then until my teen years, train myself and search for my stepsister.
It has been six years since my parent's death, and I now am in one of the surrounding cities, Kyros. I am searching all the surrounding cities in search of my step sister. I now know her name, it is Ikumi. We have never met, but I often wonder if there is a deeper reason than the fact that we have different parents. I hope to find her someday soon, that way I can get revenge on the Mask, and all those who wronged our family.
I am not strong enough myself, and the platinum dagger that was a family gift is hardly enough for daily use, and protection. Strangely I make out quite well. Mother was right, I needed no friends and allies were only created to be used as tools.
I followed the creek that flowed to the outside of Kyros, the only clue I had. I knew my step sister became a potter. So I follow the clay beds today in some hope that she may be there, or someone knows her. This is today's account.
After a night's sleep in an inn, I packed my few belongings and walked near to the edge of town. Thank goodness for inns, or I would have to rough it on my own every night. Along with my apparent slow travel I wear no shoes lest I come across a Good Samaritan. So today after being nearly run over by a lumber cart, I thought it only fair that I catch a ride.
As the cart jerkily ran along, we came towards the clay beds where the potters gathered each day. I scanned the banks and saw many well tanned men, women, and children milling about the stream. They wore patched clothes soaked with mud and weeds. I could see clearly that these villagers worked day and night just to make food come to their tables. They bore scars and bruises that told of misery and hardship.
Their songs came from the noise the wind and the water makes as it hits the cattails. Their pipes and whistles were the voices of the next generation playing on the shores. Their tales and sorrows were lost among the confusion and disarray.
Oh their dream within a dream would cost a lot by now. But never heard is misery, to that we softly bow. So needless to be, or needless to say we shuffle off our mortal coil, to steadily work and steadily toil, to be for worse for the wear.
There is great meaning to this. I read it in a book once and it stuck like paste to me. This short poem depicts the suffering that came with the rise of the war. The chaos that followed was no better, and it seems to be that people had lost their comfort and pride to work the land. They had lost their urge to dream and to achieve.
I see that so clearly partly because I feel that I was brought up differently. Mostly my mother worried much, and it all seemed to have to concern me. I only listened, and did what she said. For me to recognize her possessive nature is a step I feel I can use to reach my revenge on the Mask. That day will come, whether or not I need descendants, or my stepsister's help to reach that goal.
I roamed around the shores to ask the grumbling adults working there if they knew of my step sister.