(In a way, rain was always a relief to me... It reminded me of the day when it rained... I always thought about how I left home and what I had to do to leave...)
I remember most of the situation clearly, like it's etched within my mind, but some things are fuzzy, like exactly what time it was and how long I stayed under that porch. The thing that sticks out most vividly in my mind was the cold, numbing rain falling down. The rain offered a soft, comforting "pitter- patter" that I had fallen asleep to so many nights before in the large barn.
After running away from my plotting family, my mind was frantically trying to think of where I could go to hide. What a foolish child I was, thinking 'Hopefully, they just need time to cool off'. Definitely foolish, but at least I was blissfully innocent... After living out a good eighteen years of my life, I would choose to stay foolish and innocent versus being wise with a tarnished soul... I continued to run until I saw the porch... I couldn't believe that my family was going to try to kill me, as much as they hated me. I wanted to run away, but I knew that if I did they would just hunt me down. Nothing would have stopped them... There was no escape... But then I remembered the wakizashi loaned to me by Shishio- san (yes, it was "-san" at the time).
Easily, I slid under the porch, and I was sheltered from the water droplets falling free from the sky. My hands felt around the corners, while my heart beat madly in my chest. When I found the sword I moved my hands up and down the smooth hilt in a trancelike state. As curiosity took over, I examined the weapon. The hilt had a nice criss-crossed diamond pattern and the blade was all perfect and shiny. If weapons could ever truly be beautiful, then this wakizashi would have been a work of art. So much time and effort put into a tool that is used to take away other's lives...
Then I started shivering, not only from the cold, but from the very idea of killing the only family I had ever known. Sure, they weren't kind to me, but where else would I go? So maybe the weak were always oppressed by the strong, but there was no shame in being weak... Was there?
I would just stay under the porch for a few more minutes... Just to think things over, and make sure that the coast was clear. Little did I know that my step-cousin was so close to finding me...
I remember most of the situation clearly, like it's etched within my mind, but some things are fuzzy, like exactly what time it was and how long I stayed under that porch. The thing that sticks out most vividly in my mind was the cold, numbing rain falling down. The rain offered a soft, comforting "pitter- patter" that I had fallen asleep to so many nights before in the large barn.
After running away from my plotting family, my mind was frantically trying to think of where I could go to hide. What a foolish child I was, thinking 'Hopefully, they just need time to cool off'. Definitely foolish, but at least I was blissfully innocent... After living out a good eighteen years of my life, I would choose to stay foolish and innocent versus being wise with a tarnished soul... I continued to run until I saw the porch... I couldn't believe that my family was going to try to kill me, as much as they hated me. I wanted to run away, but I knew that if I did they would just hunt me down. Nothing would have stopped them... There was no escape... But then I remembered the wakizashi loaned to me by Shishio- san (yes, it was "-san" at the time).
Easily, I slid under the porch, and I was sheltered from the water droplets falling free from the sky. My hands felt around the corners, while my heart beat madly in my chest. When I found the sword I moved my hands up and down the smooth hilt in a trancelike state. As curiosity took over, I examined the weapon. The hilt had a nice criss-crossed diamond pattern and the blade was all perfect and shiny. If weapons could ever truly be beautiful, then this wakizashi would have been a work of art. So much time and effort put into a tool that is used to take away other's lives...
Then I started shivering, not only from the cold, but from the very idea of killing the only family I had ever known. Sure, they weren't kind to me, but where else would I go? So maybe the weak were always oppressed by the strong, but there was no shame in being weak... Was there?
I would just stay under the porch for a few more minutes... Just to think things over, and make sure that the coast was clear. Little did I know that my step-cousin was so close to finding me...