A young child opened the door a crack and peered into the bright room, then slipped through and closed the door behind her. She approached the women who was sitting lifeless by the window, her hair showing the slightest bit of gray and her skin pale, almost white. She sat there and stared out into the void as though she really saw nothing, all the while her nails scratching deep cuts into her wrists, dried blood under her fingernails.
ÒGrandmaÓ said the seven year old Katya as she cautiously approached her. She gave the child no notice. Katya took a few more steps closer till she was face to face with the women , she could now see the markings that she had scratched into her wrist. An odd symbol, one she hadnÕt seen before, it intrigued her.
Katya leaned in closer, looking into her grandmotherÕs eyes, trying to understand, trying to see into her mind, trying to find what it was she sat and stared at all day long. There was a flash of recognition in the womenÕs eyes and the her hand flew out and caught a hold of KatyaÕs hair and pulled the child in towards her with great force. ÒGrandma, please your hurting me!Ó cried Katya, trying to free herself from the womenÕs grasp. But she didnÕt free her hold on Katya, she only strengthened it, looking at her as though she could see right though her.
ÒSuch a pretty , pretty girl.Ó she chanted ÒSuch a pretty, pretty girl.Ó Her gaze intensified. Katya struggled more, Ò Please, let me goÓ she pleaded. But the women couldnÕt hear her and only continued, her hand reaching under her thigh and pulling out a small knife. ÒYou look just like my daughter.......Such a pretty, pretty girlÓ she continued to chant as she raised the knife. Katya twisted and squirmed, trying to pry open her grandmotherÕs grip. ÒSuch a pretty, pretty girl........ItÕs a shame you have such bad bloodÓ she said as she brought the knife down in a quick flicking motion, cutting KatyaÕs stomach and causing blood to flow. Katya screamed in pain, her voice loud and shrill. The women released her grip and began rocking back and forth massaging her temples as though she had a bad headache. ÒBad blood, bad blood, bad blood.........Ó she kept chanting, she was almost laughing, but her voice slowly became more and more pained until she speaking at barely a whisper. Ò.......bad blood, bad blood, bad bloodÓ
It was a memory that Katya could not forget. She still had a small scar on her stomach where her grandmotherÕs knife had slashed open the flesh. She sat and looked at her wrists, she could see the veins the throbbed just under the skin. Her grandmother was right, her blood was cursed. With it came great power, and great pain. She could not escape it, insanity was in her blood. Her destiny was carried within her blood. It was her inheritance.
************************
ÒGrandmaÓ said the seven year old Katya as she cautiously approached her. She gave the child no notice. Katya took a few more steps closer till she was face to face with the women , she could now see the markings that she had scratched into her wrist. An odd symbol, one she hadnÕt seen before, it intrigued her.
Katya leaned in closer, looking into her grandmotherÕs eyes, trying to understand, trying to see into her mind, trying to find what it was she sat and stared at all day long. There was a flash of recognition in the womenÕs eyes and the her hand flew out and caught a hold of KatyaÕs hair and pulled the child in towards her with great force. ÒGrandma, please your hurting me!Ó cried Katya, trying to free herself from the womenÕs grasp. But she didnÕt free her hold on Katya, she only strengthened it, looking at her as though she could see right though her.
ÒSuch a pretty , pretty girl.Ó she chanted ÒSuch a pretty, pretty girl.Ó Her gaze intensified. Katya struggled more, Ò Please, let me goÓ she pleaded. But the women couldnÕt hear her and only continued, her hand reaching under her thigh and pulling out a small knife. ÒYou look just like my daughter.......Such a pretty, pretty girlÓ she continued to chant as she raised the knife. Katya twisted and squirmed, trying to pry open her grandmotherÕs grip. ÒSuch a pretty, pretty girl........ItÕs a shame you have such bad bloodÓ she said as she brought the knife down in a quick flicking motion, cutting KatyaÕs stomach and causing blood to flow. Katya screamed in pain, her voice loud and shrill. The women released her grip and began rocking back and forth massaging her temples as though she had a bad headache. ÒBad blood, bad blood, bad blood.........Ó she kept chanting, she was almost laughing, but her voice slowly became more and more pained until she speaking at barely a whisper. Ò.......bad blood, bad blood, bad bloodÓ
It was a memory that Katya could not forget. She still had a small scar on her stomach where her grandmotherÕs knife had slashed open the flesh. She sat and looked at her wrists, she could see the veins the throbbed just under the skin. Her grandmother was right, her blood was cursed. With it came great power, and great pain. She could not escape it, insanity was in her blood. Her destiny was carried within her blood. It was her inheritance.
************************