Emptiness. She feels at a loss. Numb, near constantly. The road that has led her here, to this strange place, has always been uncertain and filled with adversity. Some say that challenges like that help you grow, but she calls bullshit on that. That’s just a sad, lazy excuse to not give a shit about someone’s struggles and to brush them off as if they carried no weight on the one bearing them. Fuck that.

Her sense of purpose has dwindled to nothing but a sad, dying flame in recent years. The last time that she felt… hopeful or inspired was… she couldn’t even remember. All she retains a memory of are the hardships she’s had to endure to make it here, today, alive. The nights where she curled up cold and alone, digging small divots in the ground just to feel safe, or the days where she felt as if her stomach was turning inside out from hunger. Even worse were the moments of sheer panic and fear; running for her life from a band of ne’er-do-well bachelors or fighting tooth and nail for scraps just to survive until the next day.

After years of running, feeling… surviving, she felt that she had little else to give of herself. She was simply drained. Completely sucked dry.

It’s now that she realizes she feels the most. When the heavy drops of rain pelt against her body, stinging against her face as she braves the rainstorm in order to make it to higher ground. She quietly welcomes the stinging sensation of each wind-propelled droplet, squinting her eyes all the while to be able to see where it is that she’s going. Dark nails dig into the mire of earth that has succumbed to days on end of rain as she claws up an embankment.

She reaches the top only to discover a swift and angry river rushing by, fueled by the downpour that has been going on for hours already. Part of her wishes to attempt to best the current while the other part knows for certain that she would perish. Which one would win over her decision? It is yet to be told.