bardkris (bardkris) wrote in olihin_xe,
bardkris
bardkris
olihin_xe

Challenge #6

Trying to get back on the horse and do some writing. With my work, my lady love's new job, and school, there has been scant time. Still, more prompts, please?

This week's challenge:

Challenge# 6
Title: Memories.
Word Count: 300 or more ((exactly 300)
Subject: childhood
Due Date: Friday, August 21st, 2006

Challenge Instructions:
1. The central theme is childhood and how it effects your character. Tell a story, first person, from the point of view of your character. It can either be told by them as a child or as an adult looking back on their childhood. Childhood can include adolescence.
2. Authors can also include (under a separate lj-cut, if they wish) their own thoughts or feelings about what they wrote.

The First Time

I don't really remember the first time.

I remember the first time it hurt, though. Does that count?

I was eleven. He was my languages instructor.

I'd been learning from him for as long as I could remember. He had taught me the deep subtleties of the western languages. We had learned and spoken poetry and debated its meanings. He had taught me the clicking tongues of the peoples of the south. He had explored what I had assumed were the savage languages of a savage people, only to learn that they, too, had poetry, had music, had wonder and beauty that they spoke of as best they could. He spoke to me in the high sharp tones of the men from the east. We spoke their syllabled poetry in quiet, careful tones, attempting to measure the beauty in its form. With our shared words, I learned as he had, from his journeys to the distant lands.

I had learned so much from him. I still don’t know why he made me do it. I will never forgive him for making me love him only to do this to me. How dare he? How dare he?

I’m sorry. Even all these years later, this one time will always be with me.

I remember how he looked afterward, how he lay there limp, with his eyes rolled back so I could only see the whites, the sour smell of his sweat cloying around him. I remember every detail of the room. I had trusted him. I was young and foolish.

You asked if I remembered the first time I killed. I don’t. But that was the first time that I killed that it hurt.

He had helped my enemies. He had betrayed me and my people. Betrayal has only one recourse.
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