Gwynnera
First Post
The figure steps inside, eyes downcast, walking toward the boards with resigned, tremulous movements. Her face seems pale, streaked with tears long-since dried. Her eyes seem so cold, yet, at the same time, so haunted, so full of pain and despair, like a child who has just been told Santa Claus does not exist. Tremulous fingers take the charcoal and pen the note in furious scribbles on the small scrap of parchment.
You...you once told me I was kind. You once told me so many things, but they are not so, not any longer. Thrown in my face are the words of truth, that I am no kind person, I am but a shadow, posing as such. Perhaps recent events have changed me, perhaps I am just not the woman you once thought me to be. But I was cruel, I was cold, and all the while, as I conversed and tried to keep my distance, all I wished to do was weep.
I wished to weep for the woman I have become. I wished to weep for failing one of my best friends. I wish to weep for bringing an attack upon a kingdom who does not deserve it. But, most of all, I weep because now that you know my flaw, now that you see who I really am, you might just turn away. I say might because I am no longer certain. I still carry a glimmer of hope that this flaw will not turn you from me.
But I know that you should turn away. I have deceived you. I am not the woman you thought me to be. Please...forgive me...if you can...
Resigned fingers pin the note on the board, and she stays there for a moment longer, reading, rereading, over and over again. A part of her wonders if perhaps she has left something out, but with a sigh and a shake of her head, she realizes that it must be good enough. However, she realizes at the last moment that she missed something. So with the charcoal, she leans in and pens one last thing. At the bottom, she signs:
You...you once told me I was kind. You once told me so many things, but they are not so, not any longer. Thrown in my face are the words of truth, that I am no kind person, I am but a shadow, posing as such. Perhaps recent events have changed me, perhaps I am just not the woman you once thought me to be. But I was cruel, I was cold, and all the while, as I conversed and tried to keep my distance, all I wished to do was weep.
I wished to weep for the woman I have become. I wished to weep for failing one of my best friends. I wish to weep for bringing an attack upon a kingdom who does not deserve it. But, most of all, I weep because now that you know my flaw, now that you see who I really am, you might just turn away. I say might because I am no longer certain. I still carry a glimmer of hope that this flaw will not turn you from me.
But I know that you should turn away. I have deceived you. I am not the woman you thought me to be. Please...forgive me...if you can...
Resigned fingers pin the note on the board, and she stays there for a moment longer, reading, rereading, over and over again. A part of her wonders if perhaps she has left something out, but with a sigh and a shake of her head, she realizes that it must be good enough. However, she realizes at the last moment that she missed something. So with the charcoal, she leans in and pens one last thing. At the bottom, she signs:
Gwyn