“Lillie! What are you doing?”

  “Lillie! Why are you so stupid?”

  “Lillie! When will you stop being so lazy?”

  “Lillie! Who do you think you even are, you stupid girl!”

  The voices rang in my head.

  The screaming. The yelling. The shouting.

  I could never do anything right.

  Not at work, not at home, not in the streets, not in the shops.

  Every moment I turned around, someone was yelling at me.

  Someone was calling for me.

  Someone wanted something from me, yet when I did what was asked, it was never good enough.

  I never felt enough.

  I never felt accomplished.

  I never felt like anything I did was appreciated.

  I was surrounded by constant reminders of utter failures of anything I did.

  Every turn I took, I failed at something.

  I was reprimanded by someone, claiming I was an idiot, stupid, or absolutely useless.

  The scars on my hands told me a different story, like I was working hard, beyond the voices.

  But the fading of my hair told me that I was wasting away with any effort I made, but I was still expected to keep slaving away.

  These things haunted me in my sleep.

  These fears chased me in my dreams.

  Like the shadows growing against the walls while lights dim.

  Like the lurking eyes in the forest who seek to consume those wounded, struggling to breathe.

  Like the formidable agony of accepting that one’s destiny will always be subject to a dark, miserable life, no matter what she does.

  Lillie!

  Lillie!

  LILLIE!

  I hated my name.

  All it reminded me of was its overuse at being exploited or utterly used in vain.

  LILLIE, YOU GREMLIN!

  LILLIE, YOU USELESS GIRL!

  LILLIE, YOU TERROR!

  “Lillie, thank you.”

  Huh? Who said that?

  My eyes flickered open, and a heavy weight upon my chest felt as if someone were sitting on top, but, alas, no one was there.

  The tightness in my chest slowly faded, but then I sensed my hair tangled around my neck, and I pulled it out, feeling as if I were being strangled. The linen of my bed was damp from sweat, and I sat up, feeling disoriented from the haunting nightmares.

  I looked around. My room was a mess. I had little energy to keep it organized. I threw my clothes on the ground, my heavy leather trousers lay across the floor, and my basket upturned in the corner. Dried flowers dropping excess leaves scattered across the dirty floor, while both dust and cobwebs covered the drying plants hanging from the ceiling beams. My unfinished projects stacked in one area, my filthy pile of clothes in the other. Nothing brought happiness, nothing felt right, nor kept up to my desired standards—only remnants of the fading of a past life, and the new one overtaking it with all of its miseries.

  The meadow blanket thrown next to my basket caught my eye.

  I slid off the side of the bed, and walked over and picked up the one thing that seemed still present from my old life, and its new developing that I did like.

  I moved it under my chin, remembering the moment of Sable breathing deeply over my head, and I sniffed the fibers, allowing the intoxication of smoke and dirt to remind me of it all.

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  But, then, I sneezed, and dirt particles filled the air, and I threw the blanket to the side.

  I am a gremlin.

  I laid back down, resting my arms above my head as I stared at the wooden ceiling covered in cobwebs. Suddenly, I wished the ceiling would collapse onto me. I wanted, for some reason, to be buried underneath it all.

  I wanted the pain to go away. I wanted the voices to stop. I wanted it all to come toppling onto me, silencing it all forever.

  Thank you, Lillie.

  Again, the one voice I didn’t want to be silenced.

  Sable.

  But, how? How could I ever embrace his voice, over all others? How could I escape the nightmare of my world? How could I ever be with him?

  You can’t, stupid.

  I was, in fact, just a girl. A Tamarine from Cedrus City. A low-born girl forced into an unfortunate environment. I had nothing. Nothing a Teragane could ever want from.

  I remembered Historia, her word of caution all those years ago.

  Don’t get your hopes up for a long-lasting friendship. He could choose any day never to return to visit you.

  I moved my hand above my face, looking intently at my scarred, gray hands. I thought of his brown fingers intertwining with mine. The memory of his wing moving gently behind me. The smell of cooked fish and smoke from the fire wafted through my nostrils as I closed my eyes to remember the scene. Our friendship was growing stronger and more intimate.

  I thought about the moment of him hovering over me—his eyes upon my lips, mine upon his.

  The sensation of wanting to be kissed.

  Was it all absurd?

  What if he didn’t come back? What if one day he chose never to see me again? Could I bear the pain from losing him? But, would he do such a thing? Could we ever be—a thing?

  Sable seemed to always want to see me, eager to be next to me, learn from me, and seemed to care for me. He asked to build a fire, something he magically had up on the mountains. He wanted me, a low-born Tamarine to teach him how to build a fire, even thought he had one he didn’t even understand.

  He brought fish—he is going to bring more. We are cooking together—we are—

  But, what if that changed? What if it was all a childish whim, prolonging an inevitable future of a Teragane moving onto something much more important than just visiting a silly girl from the forest?

  What if?

  “Gah!” I grunted loudly. I pushed the palms of my hands deeply into my closed eyes, gripping at my hairline.

  How could I be so stupid?

  A Teragane and a Tamarine!

  I’m an idiot.

  But I care about Sable!

  Yeah, so?

  And he cares about me!

  Yeah, and??

  I want to be with Sable!

  Why? So you can abandon your parents? Pretend you’re better off somewhere else? Act like you can change it all because of your love?

  Because I want a better life! I can’t live like this anymore!

  Okay, and? What about Sable? What about his life and his culture?

  He seems to be okay with me…

  Yeah, for a simple pleasure of life. For taking advantage of your generosity and wasting his free time before more important things arrive.

  No. Sable cares about me. It’s obvious!

  Obvious that he cares about you, but who is to say he would leave his culture behind for you? You don’t even know anything about what is expected of him.

  Well, yeah, maybe he’s just young and has nothing much to do—but maybe—

  Maybe what? He’s free as a bird right now, but you don’t know what kind of responsibilities he is expected of in the future. Teraganes are free from Tamarine culture, yes, but what about future generations? What other rituals does he have for himself that you know nothing about? Nothing! Cause you mean nothing to him as a simple low-life. Why would the Teraganes choose to stay in the mountains in the first place?

  Well—

  Because they want nothing to do with the people of the low-lands!

  Okay! STOP! I GET IT! I’m stupid for falling in love with Sable.

  I shook my head and felt tears fall down as a quiet laugh escaped my mouth.

  Me? In love with Sable?

  What even is love?

  Is it the way he looks at me? The way I feel around him? The fluttering wings in my stomach as I anticipate seeing him?

  But—any time I get close to others, it always ends badly—people are always taken from me…

  But, Sable. He’s different. He—he’s stronger—we are stronger together.

  He is not different. He is the same as anyone else. Only sees you as something to entertain his days with. At the end of your time, he leaves, embarking on his independent life without endless problems—unlike you.

  No, he cares. I know he does.

  Does he? All he does is hangout and eat your food. Why would he ever care about you? You are just a fleeting moment, a fluttering of fuzzy feelings—a vanishing shadow soon to be swallowed by all that is causing you to fade away into the mundane society you were born into. Why would someone like him with all the freedoms of the world ever stoop so low?

  No…

  Yes—why would someone of his freedoms ever stoop so low for a mere gremlin like you?

  Fine—I am an idiot. A dumb girl desperate for love.

  Yes you are.

  But—is that such a bad thing? Is it not natural for someone to desire to be desired?

  And create more pain? Sure, why not? You’re becoming numb to pain on a daily basis. Why not numb yourself to Sable’s existence anyway? Soon, he will become another painful, wretched soul buried deep within your heart. Like Historia…like Jadis. Everyone you love will be taken from you. If your parents don’t do it, then the Keepers will. Then the Masters. Then the mine. The constant state of your reality will always take from you, never giving back. You deserve nothing but pain. You deserve nothing but unhappiness.

  Lillie—a celestial voice called, causing me to jolt my neck.

  “Who are you?” I whispered while gripping the edge of my bed and I looked around for the other voice that sounded kinder than anything else I had ever witnessed—a voice I heard once before in my dream while envisioning the premonition of the wounded wolf.

  I thought about the red eyes of the black wolf, the ravens following me along the branches, and the crimson scarf lost to the wild lands of the forest.

  Then, flashes of antlers, the deer, and a glowing blue light filled my mind, but the voice did not return—not for awhile—not while I was plagued by the never ending hauntings of the other voices telling me how worthless I truly was, and how love was a mere concept of my imagination.