Sick. A wee bit psychotic too, maybe. If, only if, the world keeps its silence and allow me to hear my own thoughts, I would be able to scavenge on the little bits of hope that wounds and scars will be completely healed. But will they? What if that does not happen?
Prayers are like wishes. You use them very wisely. When you are trapped, with nowhere to go, and no key to unlock the bars that cage you up, and you cry out loudly in the dark, hoping that someone hears your call – but who hears? That is the question.
The gods gave birth to me, their Athena, the Goddess of War. They breathed wisps of air into my body, before parting me to the Land of the Mortals with nothing but 10 wishes. I morphed through the darkness, with never a hint of what I looked like, wondering why on earth I was abandoned to such misery. Torching up the lands to eradicate the demons hungry for my flesh and soul, I gradually saw how life was shaping my destiny.
For many years, I clung to the belief that I belonged to celestial bodies in the Universe. Deep down, I felt I was estranged by my family thousands of light years away. Could they possibly see that I was in agony? Alone, with no one to talk to? Did they see how much pain I had to go through everyday? Could they even sense how I felt when I rammed my head against the wall out of frustration? Did they see the tears I cried every night and day, whenever I soaked my pillow wet? When would they even hear me?
Well. They did.
Thus as my childhood reeled away with depression, I often pressed myself for answers. Sometimes I felt like I was slipping away into learned helplessness, and this turned my mood down extremely perfectly. I had that sad, sad face going on for days, maybe even weeks. I considered drinking up a bottle of dishwasher liquid. I dreamed of shadows following me every night when I hopped into my bed. I was duped into believing that that was the only way I was supposed to feel for eternity. Yet I also believed that I was here for a purpose I was still not aware of.
I often wondered how it was like to be dead, to be lifeless. I found myself questioning my own existence. There seemed no way out. So in the end, I decided to just live for the purpose that I was sent here for. Because if I really was the Goddess of War, then I was meant to win whatever battles I fought. Earth was only a testing ground for me to practice before I faced the actual war. Those 10 wishes were gifts from the gods to help me through. Even my real name was actually Marsinda Plueigens – or at least I believed. There was the green, the water, and the oceans for me to see as long as I lived. That was the beauty of life. But this life – this life was never meant forever.