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Rooster Crows


Deminatza sat alone in darkness with a single candle illuminating the unfamiliar room. She sat at a nearby desk. Picked up nearby dagger adorned with two emerald stones to sharpen her quill. When the the quill tip was to her satisfaction, she dipped it in ink and penned her thoughts.

I know I have told everyone to have faith, not to despair for the gods have their plans. And yet, right here, right now, these words feel hollow. Is this how the others received this message? I truly believed and felt the truth of the words when spoken.

Why must it be a constant battle to obtain my heart’s desire? Why must I claw and fight whereas others receive theirs. Have I not followed the gods decree? Have I not lived in accordance with their precepts? Is it because we have not the blessings of the gods? I pleaded to Scar to find me, to feel me, to believe in our connection. For who could deny that after all the trials and tribulations, our love torn asunder, we managed to find one another. Always. Is this not the epitome of love? But the gods are determined not to carry my words to him.

What have I done wrong? What have I done to earn these constant obstacles? What is it they want? Have I not been forgiving and patient? Have I not followed the decree of the gods. Are they not yet pleased to grant me happiness? Instead, just have happiness flaunted before me, just beyond my grasp. What then? What was it that I am doing wrong? What grievous wound had I inflicted upon them that they cast their ire upon me? I know not how much longer I can keep this faith. My strength is waning.

Perhaps tis not the gods, but me. No matter where I go, no matter what I do, discord is sure to follow. I bring unhappiness to my loved ones. Scar had sacrificed his life for me. The agony of this memory ails me still. I have no full recollection of what transpired after. I was told when I suffered from fits, twas his name I called for, though I had no memory of the man. I sought him out and discovered he was real. I was finally able to put a face to the name. At our first meeting, I felt a warmth growing in my chest that I thought my heart were to burst, though I had been in his presence only a moment.

He had a son. He seemed happy with his life without me in it. I tried to ignore the ever-growing pull. This tangible energy from my very core drawing me closer to him. Yet, once we reunited, the turmoil started again.

It is me. I am the catalyst. I am the cause of my beloved’s unhappiness. If I had not sought him out, he would be happy. Maybe…maybe I am standing in the way of the happiness he deserves.

I want to bask in the warmth of my beloved. I want create memories with him. Could I be so selfish? At what costs? I want peace. I am so tired. Mayhap I shall make my own deliverance. It would be so easy

(A drop of blood stains the center of the journal entry)