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    The narrator had always dreamed of escaping their isolated island home. They explore the island but hear only stories of an evil-ravaged world beyond from their pessimistic father. The narrator hopes their father is wrong in his beliefs. The narrator also recounts memories of their father's emotional nature and the arrival of a bright visitor that seemed to affect their father. The narrator is scared and struggling with understanding their father's actions while also questioning if they can forgive him. They address a recipient, saying they were each other's escape but expressing fear of deception and of not seeing the recipient again.

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    The narrator had always dreamed of escaping their isolated island home. They explore the island but hear only stories of an evil-ravaged world beyond from their pessimistic father. The narrator hopes their father is wrong in his beliefs. The narrator also recounts memories of their father's emotional nature and the arrival of a bright visitor that seemed to affect their father. The narrator is scared and struggling with understanding their father's actions while also questioning if they can forgive him. They address a recipient, saying they were each other's escape but expressing fear of deception and of not seeing the recipient again.

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    The narrator had always dreamed of escaping their isolated island home. They explore the island but hear only stories of an evil-ravaged world beyond from their pessimistic father. The narrator hopes their father is wrong in his beliefs. The narrator also recounts memories of their father's emotional nature and the arrival of a bright visitor that seemed to affect their father. The narrator is scared and struggling with understanding their father's actions while also questioning if they can forgive him. They address a recipient, saying they were each other's escape but expressing fear of deception and of not seeing the recipient again.

    Copyright:

    © All Rights Reserved
    Download as PDF, TXT or read online from Scribd
    Download as pdf or txt
    35 views2 pages

    Untitled Document

    Uploaded by

    api-633374384
    The narrator had always dreamed of escaping their isolated island home. They explore the island but hear only stories of an evil-ravaged world beyond from their pessimistic father. The narrator hopes their father is wrong in his beliefs. The narrator also recounts memories of their father's emotional nature and the arrival of a bright visitor that seemed to affect their father. The narrator is scared and struggling with understanding their father's actions while also questioning if they can forgive him. They address a recipient, saying they were each other's escape but expressing fear of deception and of not seeing the recipient again.

    Copyright:

    © All Rights Reserved
    Download as PDF, TXT or read online from Scribd
    Download as pdf or txt
    of 2

    I had always dreamed of escaping.

    The world extended beyond my limited eyes, that much I knew. It was written in
    the stories I read, pages of a bright blue sky, of floating islands in the Farsurrah region,
    the phenomenon of thick forests that reached the sun itself, of land so vast, so
    miraculous, so beautiful it was impossible to imagine. I would think about the beyond from
    my bed, tangled under the sudor- ruined sheets, my body shuddering from unknown
    calling, a realization of something— something in my reach if I just stretched long
    enough.
    I suppose I was somewhat egotistical about my own existence while on the Island.
    It’s easy to fantasize about things of which we’ve never seen, only know through the
    crooked sieve of our own desires. It was easy to cast the Island I had lived on for sixteen
    cycles of my life as an inherent evil, and the world beyond as my savior of legend.
    My father would call me a fool.
    He was an emotional man. He would cry and yell as a young babe would, and the
    only way to satisfy his infant needs was a bottle stuck in his mouth. My early memories
    are nothing but his tears landing on my skin as I was put to bed, and the sweet smell of
    his odor and the sea. The island we inhabited was, at the time, all I had known, and
    therefore encompassed the vastness of the world only a child could know. I explored every
    rock, every breath of wildlife, and tasted the different air that blew from east. The only
    knowledge of a world beyond the dark sea that surrounded the island was through the
    slurred words of my father’s stories; ones that spoke of a desolate and barren terrain,
    ravaged and destroyed by a great evil. The many races that lived in the beyond were
    likewise killed by this evil, including the humans.
    I had always hoped my father was crazy. I would have prefered that over his being
    correct about evil, about everything, that his pessimistic nature was justified by the world
    beyond.
    I can’t quite remember why I’ve decided to write this letter to you. My instinct
    says you deserve it, but my instinct has been bested by your deception many times.
    I remember now. I need to tell you a story. You like stories.
    I was young, neatly tucked against the large oak tree next to our home, when my
    father got his first visitor. The sky cast a dark shadow over the island, as it always had,
    lingering even in the earliest breaths of morning. She was so bright, so different than the
    perpetual darkness I knew; yellow hair and Stillwater eyes— large and clear gray, with
    clothing as lustrous as she was. I remember the curling heat in my stomach when my
    father barged from our house, drink-stained and ungroomed, a feeling I would later know
    as shame. My father stared at her; not his common stare, which was empty and
    directionless, with glassy eyes and a bottle mechanically moving between the chair and his
    lips, but a real, almost longing look was cast upon this woman.
    You understand, don’t you?
    I’m losing my thoughts. My hand cannot write as quick as my head. There is too
    much.
    I’m scared. For the first time in my liminal life, I think I can understand why my
    father…
    He escaped. Can I really blame him for it? Yet, still… I’m not sure if I can forgive
    him. Perhaps the egotistic side of me has never left.
    I forgive you. You asked me if I did under the Lif Tree; I failed to answer. Imagine
    we’re under that very tree again, and your hand is intertwined with mine. I forgive you,
    and I’m terrified you won’t see the sincerity behind my words. I’m terrified I won’t see
    you again, complete and whole.
    You were my escape. My deceitful, enticing, magnificent escape. I think I was yours
    as well.

    Save me.

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