Survival In The Black

What we remember from childhood we remember forever - permanent ghosts, stamped, inked, imprinted, eternally seen. ~Cynthia Ozick *Ten Years Ago on Blackburne* Bel kneeled down, the weight of the backpack shifting to the side a bit while she leaned in between two rocks to grab at a shiny green plant. The leaves were tipped in purple and she knew that if she ground it down in her mortar it would make a great pain reliever. She grumbled when her hair fell in front of her face and she swore that she was going to get Nina to cut it. Why she didn’t cut the waist long fiery locks before was beyond her. She clasped the plant and tugged, ripping it from its home with a triumphant sound of glee before standing up and looking at her prize. Enough to make enough pain reliever for half the village her Sayasi was in. Perfect. She put the plant in her hip bag and tilted her head up to let the warm sun beat down on her face and body, the sharp smell of desert air filling her lungs. She could smell ...

I'm selfish, impatient, and a little insecure. I make mistakes, I am out of control, and at times hard to handle, but if you can't handle me at my worst, then you sure as hell don't deserve me at my best. ~ Marilyn Monroe Bel wiped her brow, not noticing the smear of blood that followed it as she looked down at the wounded man. She recognized him. The man who sold her a teapot off the back of his ship. The kind old man with grey eyes and a laugh that made her mood instantly brighten just at the sound of it. He always had a joke and a limerick to try out on the bonny doctor that would buy the little trinkets. She didn’t know if he knew she only bought the useless trinkets to help him and his family. But she would like to think he did. The wound was severe but not one that was life threatening, Bel cut the stitch and carefully wrapped a bandage around his stomach before nodding to the volunteers to carry him to the other side of Fook’s. She could hear the screams and ravages ...