There was a girl, with naïve, sweet, innocent dreams. She knew what she wanted in the world. And she defended that dream. That dream started to become true, the hope and satisfaction of having a bright beautiful future overtook her. It was gilded in gold, and it lasted long, each layer of gold shining brighter then the next. Suddenly, one day, she reached her hand to touch the glistening surface, and she found out the inside was rotted. And those dreams crumbled to dust in her hand. Tears stained her cheeks. But she was proud and strong. She did what she thought was best, trying to protect herself and her family.
And someone even tried to protect her, in a way. But she was beaten down, thrown to the ground, subjected to those who ripped her world apart, torn and ragged, just like her clothing, over and over again. Her dream turned to nightmare in an instant. As the storm grew darker, she felt her peril closing in her, she was saved from that nightmare. She was even given another dream, a way to walk away from the thunder. She was surviving, living on the glimmer of escape. And then that glimmer was shrouded in bitterness, her dreams decaying in a way unimaginable to her. Yet, again there was a drop of relief in her vast sea of despair, a small gift to salvage her soul and her body. Then, someone came to her, another protector, offering her a light in the storm.
She witnessed horrible things, reasoned with the unreasonable, bowed her head to the abuse. But she did not break. She did not break. And she was saved, finally taken away from the sea that tried to drag her under, the riptides that caught her in their icy grasp at power. She was taken to calmer waters, although they still held treacherous currents, hidden underneath their smooth surface. Again, she battled neglect and abuse, again she had to hide her true self, again she had to push away the hands that tried to clutch at her. But again she had a protector, perhaps one she couldn’t trust, but a protector nonetheless. And he saved her. He gave her a future, a safe dream, floating in patience and covered in the mist hanging in their castle in the clouds.
She is not naïve anymore. She has seen torture and death, her loved ones lost, her soul and life put at risk. She is not sweet, instead being poisoned with plotting and planning and power. She is not innocent, instead learning how this game is played. But within all of this, she manages to find some kind of peace, a small comfort, and a break from the thrashing winds. She has been forced to grow up. And now she is a woman, defiant to her own pain and ready for this world.
Yet, her story is not horrible enough for some. This woman is not strong enough for some. She is not interesting enough for some. Her story is not cruel enough. It is not inspiring enough. Surely, a person can endure more. This girl must bow until she breaks. Unbowed, unbent, unbroken? Not Her!
Her torture must be exteneded. She will not have redemption, but violation. She sought revenge, but none shall be had. Instead, she is trivialized, marginalized, maligned, scarred, abused.
Her story is ignored.
Now this woman become a poor girl again has been left alone. She has been tossed back into the storm like a plaything and left to drown in the sea.
Can she be saved from this? From everything she has endured? In her story she would save herself. In their story, she is weak, a victim, a prop, a thing.
In truth, at this, she can only break. There is no return. There is no revenge. There is no woman, there is the girl they have returned to the world.
Winter has come for her and she is alone. This girl that had survived so much. This girl who refused to break. This girl who has become strong and smart. This girl who dreamed has escaped from the constant nightmares and can finally look again to the future who has become a woman.
Her story was strong.
They have shattered it.
Her story was powerful.
Her story was the story of a woman.
By the Lady Kaitlyn