6. Saoirse

Saoirse

I stumbled out of the castle, the cool night air kissing my tear-streaked face. The burn on my cheek throbbed in tandem with my heartbeat, a persistent reminder of my father's cruelty. My breathing was erratic, sweat soaking into the back of my dress as I tried to steady myself.

In. Hold. In. Hold. Slow release.

Again and again I did it, leaning against the prickly stone of my former childhood home, not getting any better as the loud clamor of celebration continued behind me. I pushed off, moving toward the forested area that surrounded the castle. With the eternal sun over Sol, I had no fear, moving through the woods that I had explored my entire life. The one place I'd ever been able to feel truly safe.

Xan and I used to play out here when she was little. We'd have nights where we laid under the semi-translucent stars that burned through the waning light, talking about our hopes and dreams for our lives. It'd been easy in those moments. To pretend. Pretend that there weren't scars down my back, that I could imagine my future past the next day.

I'd lied each and every time .

The sounds of the party grew faint as I moved further away, the path illuminated just enough that I could still see where I was going. An errant tear slipped out from one corner and I swiped it away, anger burning through me that I'd let it fall. My cheek was agony, but I paid it no mind as I stewed in my thoughts.

That was the last time I put myself within reach of my father. I'd known better and still had allowed Xan to convince me to do something I didn't want. How could I be so stupid?

It wasn't long until I reached a small clearing, a solitary tree draping over the space from the center, its branches ever reaching, like a mother going in for a hug. It was my favorite tree in the miles of dense forest I had explored while growing up. I leaned against it, letting myself fully let go of the emotions I'd been barely holding on to. Here, I could be myself.

Here, I would be safe.

My body shook with silent sobs as the torrent of despair gushed out of me. I pressed my back against the rough bark, letting the tears flow freely. No one except Xan knew about this tree, and I knew she wouldn't have left the party to come after me. If she'd even noticed that I'd left in the first place, she would know why, and would also know it was in her best interest to stay behind.

Our father would be watching.

I'd considered telling her over the years about the horrors I'd endured. About every time I'd been locked in a cage and beaten by our father while he took his displeasure out on me. But she was so young, so innocent and with her whole life ahead of her, and I didn't want to take that away from her.

My sobs slowly subsided, a deep numbness taking hold instead. A pounding in my skull signaled the impending headache that always happened after I cried. As if my body knew a part of my soul had leaked out with my tears and would never return. A punishment to my punishments. I didn't feel better. In fact, I felt worse, the ugly monster that lived inside of me fully in command.

Control was something I needed, something I craved, and I had none of it.

My fingertips reached up, gently grazing the burn on my cheek. The King had never done that before, not to my face where others could see it. I'd been whipped, burnt, struck before, but never ever in public, and never where it would be visible. He'd meant all those horrible things he'd said to me.

Even my soul had heard them.

My fingers shook as I dipped into the bust of my dress, grabbing for the small pouch I had stuffed there before leaving. My hands were purposeful, my body already knowing what I was going to do. It'd been years since I'd pulled it out, but the blade tumbled from the bag and into my hands as if welcoming back an old friend. And in a way, I guess that was true.

Cool metal kissed my palm as razor met skin, and a shuddering breath escaped me as I clutched my fingers around it. My mind raced with all the things that had gone wrong in my life, all the things outside of my control.

No magic, no family, no future.

My life was born of hate, and still it persisted, venomous and putrid, a leech that latched onto my darkness and fueled it, refusing to consume it.

Intention built in me, an almost comfort in what I was about to do. The only way I could control what happened to me.

A release I couldn't get anywhere else.

A cross between a sob and sigh escaped me as I reached down, sliding the hem of my dress up and over, bunching it up around my knees. From there, accessing my target was easy, and I quickly crossed my left ankle over my right thigh, bringing myself one step closer to comfort. I kicked off my raggedy shoe, not even caring when it thumped to the dirty ground with a soft plump. I'd caught sight of my goal, and it was all eclipsing to me now.

Soon there would be relief. I'd be okay.

I studied my ankle. A whirlwind of chaos brewed within me as I considered where I'd mark next. It was almost clinical—a detached precision as I traced the scars with my eyes.

The first time it had happened, I'd been twelve. I hadn't realized it at the time, what I was doing and the effect it would have on me. I only knew that I had so many feelings inside, feelings much too large for a twelve-year-old to deal with. I'd swiped it while at the barber, one my mom had taken me to and ordered them to completely shave my head because my hair was just too ugly to look at. Not for the first time, I'd looked into a mirror and hated everything I'd seen. Everything I was.

Everything I am.

But this time was different. I'd found an outlet. I'd been completely alone, always doing something wrong or messing something up. Just my existence was enough to set them off at times.

When I'd sliced the razor across my skin for the first time, I'd smiled. The first true smile I can ever remember making. And then, I'd done it again, and again, and again. As the blood welled, I'd finally been able to breathe. Something, finally, had been in my control.

I thumbed over the dark scars against my skin, long since healed.

And now, I understood. Truly and deeply.

I would never be free.