Unsung In RED

Erza Scarlet ??

The room was dimly lit, the air heavy with a musty scent that clung to the worn curtains and   threadbare carpet. In a small corner, tucked away from the world, sat Erza. Her dark, tousled hair cascaded down her shoulders, framing her face.It was morning, and as the weak sunlight streamed through a crack in the moth-eaten curtains, it illuminated the meager table where Erza sat. Before her, a solitary piece of dry bread lay, its edges curling slightly as if in defiance of its unremarkable existence. This humble sustenance represented her reality; a world of scarcity and struggle. But she didn't mind at all because this world was nothing like her old world. There was no war going on, no dragon of mass destruction, and people weren't dropping dead wherever she looked. Sure, this world wasn't perfect, but she was just happy to be living in a carefree place. She appreciated the huge difference between this world and the one she came from, where war and death were a constant. Even though this new world had its flaws, she gladly embraced the simple happiness of living without worries, feeling grateful for the relief it offered.

Grandma's footsteps echoed through the silent house as she made her way into her room. The moment the door creaked open, Erza snapped out of her daze.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                               ~~~                                                                                                                                                                                   Grandma slowly approached me, her eyes filled with concern, "Darling, are you alright? You've been sitting here for a while, staring into space.. What's going on in that little head of yours?"

I blinked a few times before finally snapping out of my daydream, "Oh, I'm alright Grandma. Just thinking. I tend to get lost in my thoughts sometimes."

Grandma smiled, "You know, your mother used to do the same thing when she was your age. It's good to take some time and reflect every now and then."

I smile at her. I highly doubt mom was here thinking about her past life.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                              At my age mother was probably the perfect eight year old. I doubt she stared dazedly for hours at a time, cut off her sentences to look up at the sky like a drunk bird or startled out of nightmares with the dead bodies of her loved ones behind her eyelids. Unfortunately I couldn't be like my mother, as much as my grandma would've liked. I'd always have the stains of my past life as Titania, Queen of the Fairies, underneath my fingernails.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                            With a curious smile, grandma askes, "Are you off to work now, my dear?"                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                     With my mouth still full of dreadfully distasteful dry bread, I nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, Grandma," she managed to say between bites. "I'm heading to the bakery now."                                                                                                                                                                                                                                 grandma's eyes lit up with delight. "Oh, how lovely! Please be sure to tell nano that I said hello."                                                                                                                                                                                                      As I wiped the crumbs from my lips, my heart sank hearing the name of my imaginary boss.I had been upholding the charade of working at the bakery a village over for quite some time now. In truth, I had been struggling to find employment despite my best efforts. It seemed as though the villagers harbored an unspoken disdain for me because of my bright red hair. That alone made it nearly impossible for me to find a job.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                 I glanced at my reflection in the kitchen window and sighed. In the past, my bright red hair has always been a source of pride. It was the trademark of Titania. My name was forged from the pride in my scarlet hair. Back then it stood out boldly, like flames dancing in the wind, but now the villagers saw it as a mark of a demon and shunned me for it.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                     With a heavy heart, I mustered a smile and replied, "Yes, Grandma, I'll be sure to say hello to nano." I kissed grandma on the cheek and left the house, its worn-out wallpaper a reflection of the struggles that burdened her heart. The stale bread in my palm too.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                       After I left the house, my smile slipped away. The job I was about to do demanded a stoic demeanor. It was hard enough being a child, I couldn't afford to act like one. As I walked, my steps carried me to a nearby tree, where I pulled out a hood. I carefully donned it, feeling a sense of relief as it concealed my vibrant hair from prying eyes. The hood became my shield, allowing me to adopt the calm and collected persona required for the task at hand.