Thursday, 9 October 2014


The storm rages inside me.  It’s always been there.  I tried to quell it, to bury it inside me so deep, only I could hear its insidious whisper inside my soul. But it raged and it screamed, relentless until today when I finally set it free.

I look in the mirror as I push the dirty wet cloth over the stains on my skin and acknowledge what I have become.  My eyes find the white lines embedded into my skin.  Permanently interwoven into my flesh like a jigsaw within me that will never be solved.  I only know what was responsible.  The whip… The belt…  The knife…. The hand….  I have faced them all.  I have stood; ready, waiting, anticipating the next blow.

The man who raised me never pretended he was my father.  My first memory is of being pushed outside in the pouring rain and being told to fight for my supper with the dogs.  They devoured the scraps before I reached them and hid under blackened and broken pieces of wood.  Watching me nervously, growling and worried I was going steal their makeshift shelter.  I knew I had to survive.  I plunged my small hands into the mud, picked up a handful and ate it. 

I was 3 years old.

Throwing the cloth into the dirty basin.  I look past my reflection to the body in the other room.  His skin is dotted like a piece of art clothed in circumstance.  He is finally silent.   He always had too much to say.  When he threw down the jug of brew and stalked towards me I knew I had a choice and as the blade silenced him.  I released a long held breath.  One I had been holding inside for 15 years.  And for one blissful moment, the relentless screaming inside me stopped and I found the peace I had always been searching for.  Then as I turned away the scream returned.  Loud, unforgiving and relentless.  My lips curved into a smile as I acknowledged my purpose.  

I am to silence the storm.

Picking up my sack of meagre belongings, I leave the ramshackle building without looking back and head outside to another life.  Looking up into the purple Sensio sky I swear that one day it will reflect the hate inside me.  Turning at the unusual sound, I register the steady movement of wheels as they leave the woods and stop in front of me.   The carriage is ornate with royal blue and gold spindled across the structure, so out of place I am hypnotised for a moment.  Before I become annoyed at the intrusion.  I want to leave.  The carriage stops in front of me and I look into the cabin and meet the eyes of the one who has finally come for me.  

Slowly, I smile.  I’m going to enjoy this. 

“Condemn me, deny me, it matters none,

The balance is gone, never to return,

I am but a shadow cast by all,

Yet man wonders why the mighty fall?

So when will the lamb lie with the lion?

That’s one prophecy I’ll never let happen”

Knight Luther Barton