01ㅤIn Knots

147 9 28
                                    



Peripety series (2008), Jen Mazza

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

Peripety series (2008), Jen Mazza






ㅤㅤㅤThe sun shone down on little Medea as she crouched in the middle of their street, enveloping her with it's warmth. Her auburn eyes gleaming from the faint yellow light. Her flowy brown hair came undone. A few strands clung to her dewy skin after being carried by the humid south wind.

Vivid chalk drawings of cats, dresses, and quaint houses adorned the rigid pavement. Sure to bring adoration and comfort to those who pass by.

But the girl's sprightly giggles and youthful aura were snuffed out too soon. The muffled voices of her dear mother and father rang out in the distance. Heard through her own trembling breath. Heavy crimson trickled down her soft palms that just held her parents' loving hands. Shaping an imprint on her psyche and forever bonding her with an inescapable dread.

Before Medea could take in what lied in front of her, a loud voice snapped her back to reality.


𓃡


"If that is a misprint, then UA, the most prominent school in Japan, should be ashamed of that foolish mistake!"

ㅤㅤㅤHere Medea was, awaiting UA's practical exam, listening to a navy-haired boy protest a miniscule detail she herself could not care less. His prissy beige uniform and thin square-frame glasses that screamed "know-it-all" peeved Medea if his intense voice didn't already.

"We examinees are here in this place because we wish to be molded into exemplary heroes."

ㅤㅤㅤㅤAnd there it was. Medea shivered in distaste, feeling the self-righteousness emanate from that statement.

Coming from a land of faux hearts, greedy eyes, and bloodied knuckles, the girl has never been fond of so-called heroes. It's an all too performative job—if you can call it that—that if one may treat seriously becomes torturous and worthless.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤYet Medea wasn't irreproachable either. She is but a sheep shepherded away from turning wolf by the promise of acceptance from her own blood. Her presence among the starry-eyed was no act of valor but of desperation; to be human, to be a daughter.

Medea rolled her eyes as she turned away. Maintaining a superior sense of apathy.


𓃡


ㅤㅤㅤㅤThe steel gates towered Medea as murmurs and sounds of elation went around. She looked at the vast blue sky, feeling as if it was to fall on her that very moment. Her sweaty palms gripping her cool metal batons as her stomach twisted in knots.

Ravenous. MHAWhere stories live. Discover now