She was a child of sixteen, braiding a little girls hair, kneeling at the bottom of a river, dipping the tip of her toe.
What if we are wrong?
At first they whispered "whore"under their breath, until the very wind carried it on. It was disgusted glares, hateful comments from men's wives and sermons from bitter priests.
What if we are wrong?
When she stopped going out it came to her as rotten vegetables smashed on her door, as mischievous kids throwing stones and as curses or mumbled horror stories.
Until they came.
What if we are wrong?
They started with a gentle touch and honeyed words, then shouts and slapping till their hands bled. And they raped her in every form and sense of the word but It was her fault, she wouldn't confess, she had summoned demons from the depth of hell, she had killed, she had seduced. "Confess." I whispered. I begged.
What if we are wrong?
Then they elaborated shaving her skull, cutting of her breast, mounting her on Juda's cradle. Violating her became boring compared to what they did now. Why did she keep on denying. Why was she still fighting. With what strength. They said it was the strength of evil.
What if we are wrong?
In hopeless pain, the wordless screams became a mouthed confession. Everybody else was satisfied. Three days that felt like eternity.
What if we are wrong?
She couldn't walk, she was dragged. In a white dress of execution. She had signed her death with words. The crowd was cheering.
What if we are wrong?
A second ago she was breathless, with no more fight in her. And yet when she burned she yelled again with dried lungs. The priest's nails was dirty of her dried blood, smiling.
What if we are wrong?
As the people calmed down, the exotic skin blackened to the bone, a little girl stepped from everybody else and howled bending with grief. The priest's smile widened.
We're wrong?
The child took a burning stick and so did a hundred other little girls. And so did I. We burned the town down and I mounted the gay priest on the pyre.
I had witnessed everything and did not stop it. Oh Nemesis, what else could I do but avenge?
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Dedicated to Soapbarrr.
Everyone wired fantasy and alpocalypses must check out his amazing work!
