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פרופיל
sliver
באר שבעי, סופר חובבן. משרת בפיקוד דרום, קרוב לשיחרור.
שלח הודעה
בלוגים אחרונים
כותרת בלוג
Night
Deck of Many Things
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הדמות שלי - ריימל
You
Closed and Clueless
לינג ודרביס - פרק א'
Boundless
---
עיר הגובלינים
סיפורו של מגן - חלק א'
hopes and wishes
לא יודע.. סתם שיר
בריכת דם - סיפור קצרצר
מכתבו של ריימוס
 

קהילות - כתיבה ויצירה

Rebirth - Prologue


8/17/2013
אני לא בטוח מה יצא מהסיפור הזה, או אם הוא יסתיים, אבל אם לא אתחיל, איך אדע?
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At first, I found it hard to believe. They told me that writing my story would help, that I would find it easier to turn over a new leaf once I had seen the events unfolding in front of me in ink. I was the only one who knew what had happened, a thought that was constantly haunting me. Usually, at least some people know of some version of an event that transpired, but this time, it was not the case. Nobody alive, besides me, had even a remote idea of what happened.

As I stood by the lake, I realized that they were right. Having the story committed to paper had released me from the memories. I looked at the stack of paper, its weight more spiritual than it is physical, and I smiled. Freedom.

With a flick of my wrist, the stack flew into the air and burst into flame, its ashes caught by the wind, scattering across the lake a story that will never be told.

My life started here, and I would never look back. I promised it to myself, and I promised it to them, when we last exchanged a knowing glance, the realization that we will never meet too strong to voice, too painful to admit.

Once, I would have considered that I owed them a debt. That some sort of action was in order. It was my duty, after all. But those days were long gone. It was a slow process, convincing myself of that truth. But this day had officially marked it as such. My truth.

I looked up into the skies, at the lazily floating clouds, carried by the autumn wind. It was the last time that I would allow myself to delve on those memories.  To think that something so complicated started and ended so quickly, it was hard to imagine. A series of events that changed the course of history without leaving any noticeable imprint within its pages seemed so impossible, yet that was exactly what happened.

In the last moments that I was allowed to hate myself for my actions, I wept. My tears were falling into the lake, mixing with the fresh water and fading away, just like who I was until that moment. Some nights, I was convinced that I am a monster. Others, I was certain that I was a martyr. I’m probably neither, but it is hard to accept without renouncing all my past actions altogether.

As the wind settled, my mind had calmed down and so have my breathing. I crouched low and began washing my face. Then I decided that it was not enough. I had read previously about the ritual of rebirth and knew that priests are usually present, but it would have to do. I slowly undressed myself, leaving my clothes in a messy pile, and stepped into the cold water, naked as a newborn baby.

The same way that this man came into this accursed world, the same way he shall leave, and in his stead, I will come, better and reborn.

 
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