She sat, high above the stupid villagers and their stupid celebrations. They wouldn't be able to reach her tonight; she would ruin their celebrations just this once. Her eyes trailed on the moon, high above the world's problems. Oh how she wished she could join it, that pale light, perhaps then, then she wouldn't hurt so much. Or perhaps it would hurt more, to see life pass before her, untouchable, just beyond her reach.
Pain, such an odd though for her. Pain was her only friend, pain was her birthright. She had understood pain before she could speak, before she could crawl, before she opened her eyes; pain was always with her. Slowly her pale hand rose to brush just beneath her right eye, who would she be without pain? She questioned herself, her mismatched eyes still poised on her pale beacon, though it was nothing like the beacon she knew in the dark. Those two eyes, slitted and burning, chasing away all her fear. Oh, she knew. She had known all along what she was a sacrifice, expendable. But not to him, never to them. Her eyes closed, the red cloud that held her, suspended above reality, didn't stir quite so much, only a soft rocking, only a lullaby for its sleeping mistress. A lullaby mirrored deep within the sleeping child in the form of soft words that echoed though her mind and those vibrant red eyes to ward away the nightmares.