Snippets of Greatness

Selphina

Originally written when I was in seventh grade. Edits made when I was in eighth grade.

I sit on the cushioned window seat, watching the leaves twirl to the ground. The cold late autumn air seeps through my cotton shift and touches my skin. I don't shiver. I am used to the cold.

I can hardly remember anything, only searing pain, then darkness, then waking up one morning in a tower that overlooks both the woods and the sea. I can't tell if it's connected to a castle or not.

The cold is my constant companion. It creeps in and wraps itself around me, but whether its intent is to comfort or strangle me, I do not know. Sometimes, though, the cold leaves and there are spasms of heat, red-hot flashes like lightning, and sometimes a smoldering heat that lingers long after the flashes are gone.

And of course I mustn't forget the loneliness. To be deprived of all human contact, to never know love- that is my punishment. Because what I have done is simply unforgivable.