Three YEARS!!!

[nikavia]

So i have officially been on Livejournal for three years. Yay!
Today was grandfather's birthday. 83 years old. I hope to make it that old... or perhaps older.
This week is going to suck... which is becoming my mantra. Everything will be fine until Wednesday when things start to go down hill. Between now and March 6th, i have two quizzes, three exams, two labs and 5 homework assignments.
**dies... revives**
So i am worn out after today and i just kind of want to invent a time machine and fast-foward to next Thursday at three. But that is impossible.

I drabbled for the big 3 years... Prompt from 31days... and i am too lazy to link you over.
Sarah commanded 768 words, so i wrote 768 words... it is kind of strange and odd and... disjointed but i kind of like it... Also written in less then an hour so i will probably hate it in a week or so.

They called her Pagan. They called her savage. They called her many other names that she didn’t learn the meaning of until she had asked one of her instructors, who promptly turned a strange strangled color. But they never said it to her face. Always in whispers behind her back. She was only 11. She was an outsider in the group of outsiders. She didn’t have anyone to turn to.

 

She was raised outside, under the bright sun and with grass brushing against her legs before she would run down to the shore, stepping into (onto) the ocean. Then she had gotten her second strike, a blow across her back, bisecting it perfectly to cross with the scar along her spine for the offense she didn’t have a choice. It wasn’t her fault that her mother was… one of those words that they would whisper behind her back. It wasn’t her fault she was only half native. The second strike was her fault, only having talent in Hyne defying skills, blessing warriors to fight Hyne and sensing Hyne’s children. It was wrong. It was bad. She was wrong. She was bad. So they sent her away to find Hyne. To find her place among her people and curb her Hyne Defying Ways…. No matter how unintentional they were.

 

So she found herself here… with orphans and all kinds of ugly people who do not believe in Hyne or even worse, hate Hyne, defy Hyne. And they expected her to learn. One of the older students was nice to her, especially when it came to her homework. He had ignored the fact that she had never dealt with books before (Books are for the high followers of Hyne. Unholy books defy Hyne) and didn’t know one letter from another. He had helped her spell her name, write and speak like a native of the Hyneless people.

 

But they found out. That she couldn’t read. She had walked out of the room and started back towards home, even if she would have to cross oceans. Hyne was not to be found here. But on her way out, she had met him, his first day. He had looked at her and gave her a fierce look. He was cute. And then he opened his mouth.

 

“You the girl who can’t read?” Voice a mismatch of something so infuriatingly haughty and street roughed, he sounded like a god (god… not Hyne… never Hyne) of lost souls and broken spirits and rich brats who fell wrong when the world ended. She had punched him, landing a blow that caused a crack and a yelp. He kicked her and she hit him again and soon they were a mess of bruises and blood stains and yells.

 

When they were finally pulled apart, they had glared and snarled still. And then they were placed in each others care, two lost souls amongst lost souls. They would never work. He didn’t love Hyne and she hated how he had everything he wanted. But then he asked, one day as they studied under the sun about the scar he could see under the back of her collar. And he had listened. And listened to the consequences: Probation, Exile, Death. Three strikes: Vertical, Horizontal, Straight through. Punishment for Birth, Talent and Love. They became friends that day because he asked about Hyne and listened and she listened to the story of how the sad little rich boy had ended up here with the orphans. He taught her to read and she taught him how to punch.

 

She was called back to her people at 14. He wasn’t allowed to come since this was a trial, not a social visit. The elders said she had learned nothing, that she was still as heretical as she had been when she left. And they had torn her shirt off and had deepened the scar on her back, as they would continue to do. She bandaged her wound and went back, back to the Hyne defying land where she was just a pagan unable to read.

 

He was waiting, sitting next to a fire that he made. She knelt next to him and he took something out, one of the books from the library. She recognized it, having people yell things from it at her often enough. This book hated her people. This book hated her. And he tossed it into the fire, saying “Don’t make your choice to be savage or civilized because you are scarred and the books are cruel” ... and they watched the book she couldn’t read burn.

Laters
Nyssa
Manga Count: 545 (I think)
Book Count: 85
Books Checked Out:
Traitor, Payback, The Named, The Dark, New Amsterdam, Taken, Monster Tattoo Book One: The Foundling, Boy2Girl, The Unthinkable Thoughts of Jacob Green, A Companion to Wolves, The Wizard Heir, The Warrior Heir, The Key, Ruins of Gorlan, Spy High Mission Two: Chaos Rising, Spy High Mission Three: The Serpent Scenario, Spy High Mission Four: The Paranoia Plot, Spy High Mission Five: Blood Relations, Alfred Kropp: The Seal of Solomon, Boy Girl Boy, Epic