I WASN'T MEANT TO EXIST
1190 Words
ELIRA
The growl resonated low and deep to the air, reminiscent of thunder rolling over the hills, sending cold and chill sound through the trees. Everyone froze in place, and for a moment, silence covered us before panic took hold.
“The wolves!” someone cried out.
“They're here!”
Gara recoiled from me, as if I had scorched her, her eyes wide with fear and terror. The crowd was swept by terror, racing down the path back to the village center, shouting and trampling over one another.
And I remained still.
My heart raced so fast, but not from fear this time. That growl hadn’t been directed at me. I sensed it deep within me whoever made that noise wasn’t a threat. They had shielded me.Once again.
I turned my eyes to the dark, endless forest. That sound had emerged from deep within, as it always did. It wasn’t the first occurrence I have seen; odd things surrounded me. The wolves had never harmed me. It was as if they were somehow looking out for me.But why? I can't really say.
I struggled to understand it,to comprehend what was really happening, the thoughts unsettling me more than the villagers ever could.
Turning away from the woods, I picked up the empty basket I had dropped. Mistress Ansa had discarded the carrots amidst the chaos. My hands trembled with shock, dirt stuck to my fingers, and the sting of the slap I had received still throbbed. With every step toward the village, I felt pain in my face, yet I forced myself to keep walking, my eyes fixed downward.
As I reached the broken fence at the village’s edge, I could hear laughter coming from the house's warm, joyous laughter that felt alien to someone like me.
I approached my home an old, crumbling hut at the end of the village, where rain leaked through the roof and the walls were as flimsy as paper. Before I stepped inside, I could hear my father’s familiar sounds: the clink of his bottle against the table, low curses spoken under his breath, and the screech of his chair.
I opened the door quietly, hoping to slip by unnoticed.
But hope had never been on my side,not even for ones,it seems like hope hated me too as well.
“You filthy girl,” he yelled the moment he laid eyes on me. “Where have you been? w*****g? Stealing? Or did you curse someone again?”
I remained silent; there was no sense in replying.
His bloodshot eyes and Dagger face told the tale of neglect. He hadn’t shaved in days, and the odor of ale and sweat was overwhelming. Stumbling slightly, he pointed a trembling finger at me.
“Look at you. Just like your mother no, worse. At least she had the decency to die before ruining my life.”
His words pierced deeper than any physical blow. My throat tightened, my chest pained with anguish.
“You were a mistake,” he hissed, moving closer. “A curse. You should’ve died with her. No, you had to live and ruin everything.”
I could no longer contain my grief.
Tears blurred my vision as I murmured, “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” he scoffed. “For breathing? For existing?”
He grabbed a bottle from the table and threw it at the wall behind me. It shattered into pieces, glass scattering everywhere. I flinched but stayed firm. Not this time.
“I wish the wolves would take you,” he muttered dismissively, turning away.
I stood there, tears streaming down my cheeks uncontrollably, my whole body trembling. My heart felt as if it were being slowly and painfully crushed into piece.
I couldn’t endure it any longer.
I turned and ran out of the house, past the fields, and by the villagers who looked at me with hate and disdain. I ran until my legs buckled beneath me and collapsed behind the old mill, concealed from sight.
I wept until my voice was hoarse and my tears dried, leaving only an oppressive emptiness, one that made me question my very existence,like why did I even come into this world to suffer ?.
This was my life: a mistake, a curse, a ghost who didn’t truly belong.
I was not permitted to attend village school not that it was financially possible. They claimed I would bring misfortune to the other children, so I was excluded from village events, feast days, and moonlit dances. I watched from the shadows, always observing everything that was going on.
The other children played and laughed, their voices ringing with joy as they ran through the fields. I remained alone, longing to join them, even just for a moment.
But they never allowed me in.
They threw stones at me and called me names: Moon Curse, Ghost Girl, Death Bringer.
I would run into the woods, where I was unseen. The trees didn’t judge me. The animals didn’t flee at my approach. I spoke to them: birds, rabbits, stray dogs, my only allies,my best friends.
But even that was taken from me.
One day, the villagers began hunting down stray animals, blaming me for their ailments. They killed them all.
I buried them myself, grieving as my tears fell into the cold earth.
Afterward, I stopped speaking.
No one noticed.
Food became an ongoing struggle. I rummaged through trash piles behind the tavern, looking scraps and sometimes fighting off rats for a piece of stale bread. I grew frail and weak; my clothes hung off me like tattered rags, patched where I could not cover.
******
Winter arrived with its cruelty.Snow piled high against the walls of our hut, and the wind howled outside like a wild beast while my father drank more than ever. He refused to light the fire, deeming it wasteful on me. I lay curled in a corner, shivering under a thin blanket, my teeth chattering as if they might break into pieces.
I thought I might perish.Sometimes, I wished I had.
But I persevered. Somehow, I always managed to survive…..
As I walked back toward the village square that night, I noticed lanterns being lit for the Festival of Light, a night of music, dancing, food, and laughter to honor the gods and the moon.
I wasn’t invited.I never had been.Yet I couldn’t stay away.
I found my usual spot on a hill overlooking the square, where I could see everything: the vibrant dresses, the swirling dancers, the laughter that sounded into the night.
I watched with tears in my eyes, my stomach aching with hunger and my heart feeling hollow.
They danced as if they had never known suffering.
And I stood alone, watching and crying not from hatred, but from a deep yearning to belong,just wanting to feel a touch of love even if it is one day.
I wasn’t sure how long I stood there, my heart breaking with every note, until, as the music swelled, something inside me changed.
A quiet voice said, You don’t belong. You never will.And I accepted it.I always had….
- Writer
