She remembers what it felt like to be touched in places she didn’t want to be touched. To lose all power and surrender to him because fighting would just make him crave her more.
His camo gear that once symbolized freedom, now made her cringe and tremble in fear. An island surrounded by deep waters and harsh waves, yet no magnitude of tsunami could wash him away. Like a tide, he would come and go. Maybe he was one with the waters, maybe his powers possessed more then she’d ever know.
Her mother’s songs repeat in her ears, “it’ll all be over one day, one day it’ll all be clear.” The song is now muted by the blasts that pursue. She may have escaped this one but the scars were still the same. Third degree burns visible for all to see, but I guess they weren’t gruesome enough for people to notice. She prayed for deafness; to block out reality. But then again, what exactly was she praying to?
It was her cries that made her what she is today. A soldier with no ammo or tanks, but a soldier none the less. A survivor with ten resurrections, but a survivor none the less.