Fire

There was a fire in her eyes. From the moment she was born, a blazing fury rose from her in every way. Her passion unmistakable. Her will made of iron. Every step she took she took in assure that she knew her path. She knew what she wanted. Even as her confidence in herself waned, her desire to persist never faltered. All of us could see it. 

To her father, she was the world and her the moon. A growing garden of the only success that ever mattered, even with myself out of the picture. Rightfully so, I thought. All that ever mattered was her security, her happiness. To each of us. But to him, it was all he had. He wanted her to grow. But he could only give her so much to feed that fire. 

To Vetelle, she was the stone in the river. Cold and smooth, unmoving in the face of the world. She was a rock, someone to depend on, to lean on. A good friend in hard times. Yet, with time comes the wear. She was worn, ready to move. She would not let the river extinguish that fire. 

To him, the boy and his sister, she was the dream. A memory clocked in snow best left forgotten yet returning every night in a dream. Never could he think her to be so prevalent, so important. Someone to care for so fervently. Yet dreams, they do not last forever. Like the night they spawn and move forward so soon after. No imagination could satisfy that fire.

To me, she was the only thing that ever mattered, and would give everything to give her back the world she once knew. I lit that fire. For her, I saw it burn. And so shall it be I who sees it extinguished.

I am sorry, my daughter, for that which you face. The truth. The reality. The cruelty. I only pray your world, your stone, your dreams, your strength, all of it pulls through. 

There was fire in her eyes. But it’s finally turned to ash.