When people are alone in the dark, they sink to their lowest point. That's the theme here today.

I do not want to remember that day. The day that man gave me a curse on my arm, I would rather die here alone. I am not going to remember it, I do not need a reminder of how weak I was, compared to now. I am getting out of here, that is all. Kicking my arms and slashing at the Heartless, I make my way upward as more Heartless crowd around. More claw at my face as the Keyblade slashes through their thick walls but these scratches cannot be made permanent. I use a Heartless as a stepping stone in the midst of the chaos, lighting the Keyblade over my head. It makes a hole and the light, dimmer than before, shines through.

Jumping up, I push down on the Heartless beneath my feet to make my way towards the hole. I feel more claws around my foot when I finally pull myself out and the light being nibbled away by the shadow creatures of yellow eyes. I sprint towards the light but the Heartless on my leg suddenly become heavy. Looking back, they have created thick goo that is pulling me away from the light. But I cannot afford to lose the light, it is supposed to bring me home to everyone, losing it would mean losing everything. That is what I risked when the Angel Island intruder led me here. My hand tries to snatch it but if I continue I am going to lose my foot. Closing my eyes I make a jump for the light and feel a warm mist on my fingertips as the light barely touches it.

I was a child, five years old, free of most problems. By then Father's method of teaching had changed me from a cheerful child to one who could barely crack a smile. I remember the weather looking gloomy, thick clouds always hung in the sky while I waited at home for Father like I always would. I do recall feeling rather impatient, I wanted to slash and hack at more training dummies but Father said I always had to wait. "I shouldn't have to wait," I told Miriam.

"Master makes the rule, we all have to obey them young Mistress," she said like she always did. It was impossible for her to ever complain or rebuke Father, he kept her employed. "Did you forget your father is Chief?"

"No. But I do still do not want to wait," I complained, wishing he could be home already. "Why do I have to wait? I am his daughter." Giggling, she picked up the comb from the night table and sat down behind me to comb my hair. She held on to the top of my hair as she brusquely yanked through my thick brown hair.

"Even the Chief's daughter has to wait," said Miriam, taking out a knot without mercy. "Sorry-did you know that the former Chief of Village of Willow was said to have hair so long that she had to stay-nngh, sorry, in a tower and have servants climb up her hair and comb as they slid down?"

"No, ouch!"

"And because of that, the village was always raided so your father made a rule that all future Chieft have to keep their hair at a certain length. When your father passes, let it be far into the future, this long hair will have to go-so many knots child!"

"I can braid my hair, ouch, I don't wanna have to cut my hair."

"Last one Risa, I promise, and…there we go. Smooth sailing from here," joked Miriam, brushing through my hair peacefully.

"Miriam, have you seen Mother?"

"Why would you ask me?"

"'Cuz I thought you'd know."

"I met your father after he became Chief, I never met your mother but I don't doubt she was a beautiful woman."

"What does that mean?"

"Doubt? It means not to believe," she explained sadly, putting the brush down on the bed and sighing satisfactorily. "Your father will be coming soon, let's go downstairs to greet him ok?" I groaned, greeting Father at the door became a chore in itself. "I don't want to. Tell him I'm napping," I said while falling flat on my bed, exaggerating my snores.

"Come now Risa, you know your father doesn't like that," scolded Miriam, picking me up and trying to drag me off the bed. "You're coming downstairs."

"He doesn't like anything I do. He doesn't like me," I retorted well enough for Miriam to stop pulling me. Miriam tearfully looks down at me, hurt that I could have ever said such a thing.

"Don't ever say that Risa, of course he likes you. He loves you."

"He yells at me every day and is always mad at me," I pointed out honestly. "So he doesn't like me or love me."

"Enough of that. Let's go downstairs now," she pushed me along the staircase that was not creaky then. Dinner was pre-made and waiting on the dining table, smelling like grilled fish with some food native to Village of Willow. Miriam only combed my hair and prettied me up so that Father would be discouraged to shout but I knew better and was dreading his arrival. "Open the door Miriam," ordered Father. She hurried to the door, giving me a "be nice and kind to him" look and opened the door wide for him, immediately bowing to him. Likewise I bowed down to him.

"Welcome home Chief." He grunted to her.

"Welcome home Father."

"I bought you a new outfit, why not wear it, Child?" he demanded irritably.

"'Cuz I didn't like it," picking my head up, I saw Miriam's worried expression behind Father but I did not care. I did not care about most things at that time.

"Child, you dare tell me what you do and do not like? What I buy for you is what you wear, now go upstairs and change out of that ridiculous dress," he ordered as he went to the dining table without a complaint.

"No! I like it and it's not a dress, it's a kuh-mona," I held the bottom of the kimono and lifted it to show him as if that would distinguish that and a normal dress. The cleverness I have now was absent at that age and so was the ability to live with constant criticism. Why was I so stupid at that age?

"You're talking back to me? You're only a child, you don't understand the world yet silly girl. How are you supposed to get married with an uncouth tongue like that?"

"I'm never getting married!" I stormed out to the training room and picked up the two-handed sword. Quite heavy, I wobbled and fell but my anger gave me a surge of strength I needed to pick it up and buffet the straw dummy. Straw flew everywhere as I kept striking the dummy but Father's hand caught the sword at its blade. With his bloodied hand, he snatched it from my hands and grabbed the hilt. I was terrified, thinking he was going to physically reprimand me but instead he cut the head off the straw dummy and then threw the sword down. I began to struggle when he snatched my hand but I stopped when I saw the warm, crimson blood trickling down my tiny arm.

I am only sinking farther down. The will to fight is lost along with myself, I can only blame myself for that. I can only blame myself for the punishment I got later, if only I kept my mouth shut and learned to lock my emotions away earlier. If I was like Mother instead of like Father, I would not be here, I would have saved my world from Darkness and I would not have ever met Sia, Mizuki, Erick, Knuckles, or Mia. Being as strong as Mother would have kept me from drowning in this sea of Heartless.

"The past is painful isn't it?" asks Dori.

"Yes, it is," I say softly, exhausted and inhaling air slowly. The air I need to survive is been taken away by the Heartless. "Why do you make me suffer?"

"No Keyblade Wielder, I am not making you suffer. Rather, I'm opening your eyes and making you stronger-no one's past should ever be swept under the rug, you know?"

"You can end me here, why let me suffer?"

"That is the purpose of memories, to make you realize how human you are."

J.G.P.