Six Of Crows

Memories

Hey everyone! guess what... I finally updated!- sorry, it's been so long... here are a few short paragraphs to get more on a taste of my "totally improved" writing. Enjoy cheers!

Feeling the skin on skin was something I desperately try to avoid. That horrible disease overlapping what was once human skin, covering it with the frail outline of a monster.

*****

Kaz.

The sheer thought of skin rubbing against mine is too hard to bear. The rough, dead, calloused surface of someone's hard-working hands- as that's all there is in the barrel. Hardworking people trying to make a living, let alone live. The barrel rats scrounging around coffeehouses or standing taverns while the pigeons or sightseers aimlessly wander around and feed in the worst parts of Ketterdam. Half of them never knowing their wallet from on their hip is missing and replaced by a weighed bag of dirt or a slab of rock. The pigeons never know what's happening below the surface of Ketterdam, nor they ever would... the grunts of the numerous gangs continuously carrying out the dirty grubby jobs, cause that's what they're told to do. To clean up the bloody messes of a trade gone wrong, carry the bodies of traitors and make an even larger mess to make an example- only to clean up later. After gang or turf wars, collecting the bodies rattled with bullet holes, turning into messy (coroners) trying to find whole bullets, suitable to reuse later. Dragging the opened, gory, dead bodies onto a flimsy row-boat to discard and later burn on Black Veil Island.

The memories of the commander grabbing a hold of my wrists, forcing me to help carry bodies. The many jobs I needed to carry out, involving skin on skin- getting beaten and slapped around for hesitating, or not responding with a suitable answer to explain why I flinched at the touch of a dead man's hand.

I was better off keeping my mouth shut. One, wouldn't last long in the barrel if others new your fear, especially such a lousy, common one as skin contact.

What would I have told them even if I knew I wouldn't be exploited by Inej, Jesper, Nina, Wylan or even Matthias. Would I tell them my exact memories? No... that would only make me re-live them.

Memories...

Black blisters forming over my once tan soft skin, bodies popping infected blood and puss. My skin burns just thinking about moving, while within the midst of transforming into a horrible plagued monster, or beast. The need to cough your own guts out every time you'd try to inhale the thick barrel air was excruciating. Eating was torture to our mouths as the food we managed to scour, ripped our throats if we dare try to eat it...

Jordie and I, basically rotting in that alleyway, on our backs too weak to move, talk, too weak to open our eyes, waiting for death itself to collect us. The continuous words of Jordie's and that Jakob's conversation spinning around in my head, most nights if I hadn't past out from the pain, I'd get myself too worked up in anger, hatred, or even sadness that it would leave me with headaches that felt like my brain were to explode. Remembering the promise Jordie had said, leaving me to believe and keep fighting the pain. Later, remembering he was the one to get us in the mess in the first place.

The last night, he had enough energy to apologize to me, I said nothing- I just mustered enough strength to turn over.

Closing my eyes, knowing no one cared, knowing we both were left for dead... the pain and the misery that plague left-

so much pain...

Back again! once again sorry it's short, but I felt like I needed to get, just SoMeThInG out... it's a little dark I suppose but, oh well! 

P.S I'll try to get more out sooner!

adios for now, cheers!