Mina Torres . D3 . wip

Mina Torres . D3 . wip Jul 22, 2017 8:04:22 GMT -5

Post by lionel estrada d5 ᥫ᭡ kiah on Jul 22, 2017 8:04:22 GMT -5

MINA TORRES
ELECTRICKERY

Above me were lights. They would twinkled in the night star, winking down at me. I watched as a cloud would drift over the full moon, plunging my world into momentary darkness. My heart rate began to increase, my palms would become sweaty, but before real fear could take control over my limbs the cloud passes, the moon light basking me in a dull light. Once upon a time I used to love the darkness. I used to love the way it changed how people view the world around them... But of late I thought very differently. It gave me no pleasure and I saw it for what it really was...

Evil.

I guess that may have raised the question as to why I had laid, on one of the very few unpolluted fields of district three. If I was to lie, I might have said that I got lost in my thoughts and before I knew it the sun had long sought the desire to dip below the horizon, seeking a new view. If I was to tell the truth I would tell you that I was waiting, just like I had every night, for the one person who I loved more than anything else in this world to appear out of no where.

You see this was the last place I had seen her. This was the last place she told me that she loved me. The last place where we lay beneath the sun, her slim fingers weaving through the long locks of my mousey brown hair. Here she would tell me how much she loved me and she would tell me stories- so many of them that I had lost count, the stories weaving into one another to create a new one with an ending that always changed. She often used to tell me about a man. A man who was so handsome that he could stop a crowd of babbling woman. She would say, "And out of all those woman, he choose me, he choose us." Then she would smile, a smile which was identical to my own, lips thin ( cracked from lack of hydration most the time) but dazzling all the same because it shone with a memory of a time that she would not forget.

But there was something more sinister behind her look of adoration and I knew what would come next. Next her eyes would begin to shimmer as tears would begin to form, her voice would trail off, but she wouldn't have to say anymore because I knew how that story ended... "And one night, he slipped away into the night, his life slipping from his body, leaving behind the empty shell of a man. Of a lost father. My father." At that she would begin to sob, her tears landing on my slightly tanned skin, rolling down a cheek which was lightly coated in dark spots. I would then hold her tightly, my thin arms wrapped around her body as she cried.

I was often told that my kindness was a virtue, that it was something not to take for granted. But it was hard to not loose that tight grasp on myself as I used to sit and wait for a woman that I knew would not appear. For years I had waited, holding onto the idea of who i used to be, waiting... Waiting for my mother to walk through the field of light, to grab my hand in hers... You see she had told me to run along home. She'd told me to beat the sun, that she would be right behind you, and I had, reaching the door to the cosy little house I called home as the suns last rays crept below the horizon. But when I had turned around thats all I saw. I remember as though it was only yesterday, the way I had sat on the porch, my body shivering to the bone waiting. Waiting to see her race down the path into my waiting arms, but it never came.

The peacekeepers told me the next morning that my mother had been murdered. That her body was found at the edge of the street a few streets away from home. They would not burden me with the details of how she died. They only told me to pack my things and be ready to leave.

That day I became an orphan.