The Witnessing

Flashing. Bright, unnatural flashes conquer the hay skies and hostile faces. It’s a great sin to be different in a world where everyone is the same. So did this rigid society remove the ones unfit to question and never answer.

A secluded cottage. Away from the sights and sounds of relentless fear, abuse and marginalisation. A great fire burns in her heart for the bitter ashes of those she once loved. Loved and swore to protect. With gifts of mighty capability and great hatred. 

A great fire burns in the hay skies, over the fields and in death’s stony eyes. The screams and panic are not disguised. Yet she remains hidden away in her cottage. She is removed from those same burning skies.

A great cloud uncovers the morning. The horror of a society so infinitely cursed. Even during their last day they did not recognise her worth. Now silent and alone she ponders those lies. Was she loved or was she despised? It is too late for one to tell. For the day she stayed away from their hate was the day her beloved village fell.