Lost in Writing

"Mom, I love you. But I need to see the world."

My mother looked up from her sewing. She was the most talented seamstress in our village. The wad of cloth she was petting into a dress was a lovely blue, good for a boy's first suit.

"Oh sweetie, you know I understand." She reached over and put her hand on top of mine. "I miss your father every day. But he got to see the world. He had adventures before he came home to me. You can have adventures too but why not just live here with me? I'll keep you safe and we can grow old together. I know it's not much but if I work hard enough maybe we can save up some money and buy a little house."

"Our house is fine mom." I said back to her smiling gently at our little shack that had been passed down to us through generations of my family. It leaned slightly in one corner as if it were about to topple over but that didn't bother me. It fit just right in the little spot on our land where all the other shacks had been before them. Each generation added something new- extra rooms or a fresh coat of paint or new shutters for the windows, but at its heart it was still very much mine and my mothers home. My travel bag was sitting at my feet and my brown hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail which was the only reason my mother hadn't noticed yet that I was wearing my father's old traveling cloak that she'd given me years ago when she'd decided it was too worn out to be useful anymore. It was still perfect in every way though and would serve me well on my travels as well as hide my face whenever necessary, which would be most of the time if I wanted to stay off any bounty hunter's radars after I left our little village behind forever.

"I know sweetie." My mother sighed softly before continuing, "But what if you get hurt? Or worse? What if those nasty men who killed your father figure out where we are and come here looking for me?" She paused and looked around fearfully, though there were no strangers present in our small home and none had been since that awful day when three men with cruel eyes had knocked on our door asking for money as always only this time they'd produced long wicked knives when we told them we couldn't give them any more than what we'd already given them over the last month or so. My father had tried his best to protect me but rough hands had forced him down onto his knees while one knife took his life and another carved an X into his chest like some kind of sick trophy leaving behind a gaping hole where his heart used to be so that he could bleed out slowly while he watched his wife be forced down onto her own knees by one man while another slid his long blade between her ribs until it hit something soft and squishy before he twisted his knife upwards searching for a spot where it would be easy to carve out her heart too and finally find peace from what felt like an unending nightmare which should have ended two months ago when 3 men rode into our village asking for things we didn't have or couldn't give them, but instead led to 1 woman dead by their hands because she knew how to sew beautiful clothes, 2 daughters left without their parents and all because three men didn't want to live simple lives like everyone else in our village did, instead choosing their own selfish way of life because they wanted more than what others could provide them with even if they didn't deserve it.

The girl who used to be me has changed drastically since then. Seeing someone you love die is supposed to make you have nightmares, make you jump at loud noises, make you afraid of things that aren't dangerous like shadows under trees or nearly anything else that could happen around you every day but seeing someone you love die while they're being tortured will change everything about who you are forever whether you want it too or not so there's no point in trying to hold onto anything from your past life after something like that happens because its gone forever now so why even try?

"I'm not going anywhere mom." My voice sounded odd as I spoke these words to her but it felt right somehow so I kept speaking knowing that each word would take me closer towards freedom today even if it also meant leaving behind everything I'd ever known in this world including the only person who still meant anything at all in mine anymore, but there wouldn't be much time left after this anyway once she realized what I was really doing with myself these last few weeks since dad's death so better to get used to being alone sooner rather than later while thinking back on happier times... "I'm just borrowing dad's cloak."