Daeron Darkfire | District One | CB/FIN

I am withering flower, once admired and cared for. Somebody bought me for an intention, a gift for another and I could only deliver disappointment. The care, the passion, it is fading with the colour of my petals. Once bright and eye-catching, now my leaves just get caught in the wind, detached and stolen. Just my roots are fighting on in the soil.

A repeated inferno in my mind wants to tear me apart. This nightmare is a show that I wished was never recorded and there is no possibility for me to click delete. It’s producer, relentless on keeping me awake. My face is painted with the horrors, dark eyes that should belong to a middle aged man, a clear advertisement of the terrors.

Small trinkets line my bedroom, in disguise of the prying eyes of my twin brothers, ready to pounce with unfiltered taunts of my care remedies. Just small things to paint a mask on reality, to screen the truth just for a moment. One day, one hour, one minute without a circling mind, I take it. It will never be a cure; it will never last for the long term.

But he will.

Just one company of the other and the petals on my flower glow. His breathe on my neck, his cheek against mine, small touches to pull me from the pits of anxiety. A hidden source of happiness, a mystery to my family. Small attempts to abide by their rules and they never seem to notice a thing. I force myself into the training centre but the effort is rewarded with a night spent with Alyn, the key of washing away the blaze. The cure.