Fennix
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- Parts 20
Long before the prohercy we were bearing the world on our shoulders.
When they told us that we could do anything if we just believed we smelt a rat.
They told us that we should have hope.
Even though they are burning it right before our very eyes.
It's for the best they say.
It's for your own good they smile all too sweetly.
They don't think that we know.
They think that we believe their lies,
That grey eyes are shameful, useless, souless and should burn,
That we will sit back quietly, while history repeats itself. I used to believe, but I didn't burn. In fact I rose from those flames.
This is my journey towards realization that I too can use magic.
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Lara, in this magical and enchanting world, nothing is a lie! So believe in fairy tales. This was the phrase my mother whispered to me every night with her gentle voice. When she read the story of "Jack and the Beanstalk," I would always curiously ask: • But why don't I have a magic bean that can take me wherever I want? She would smile kindly and keep hope alive in my heart. We all believed in magic and wizards as children, fairy tales, and Little Red Riding Hood! I wished I would never know the bitter taste of reality. But years after her death, I faced the harsh reality of the world; a reality I had always tried to escape. After my mother's death, her voice remained with me, inviting me to the bright world of hope; unlike many who grew up and no longer believed in any childish dreams. But I remained faithful to stories and the land of fairies, believing that destiny awaits us all! We are born into different tales and live with love. However, the bitterness of the world ensnared me in its grip. Just when I was only nine years old, I became acquainted with the bitter reality of life; when the snowy night arrived! I had never seen snow so terrifying and ugly. Because my mother was in bed, coughing up blood and taking her last breaths. A tiny bit of white snow had fallen from my woolen boots onto the ground, and when her hand hung limp, droplets of blood dripped from her fingers onto the snow, turning it red.
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