Forced Silence
People ask why I don't speak. I wonder why they speak. I do not speak because there is no purpose. What is there to say? Words are but meaningless letters put together to try and make a feeling. My feelings cannot be expressed in simple letters and words. They are too sad, too terrible.
When I was young my life was normal. I was normal. I had friends; I had a brother and two sisters. I remember them in my mind. My little brother his joyful smile, his raven black hair, his vivid shining eyes, his fiery spirit. He always told me that he wanted to grow up to be like me. They are my only link to a past ripped from me and cast aside like a rag doll. My life was bottomless and empty, a mirror to my soul. I believed I would never know peace or companionship again. I feared I would go the way of obscurity that I would slowly fade from this world to the next with no recollection of my existence. To feel alone is more dangerous than feeling neglected. My soul cried out yet no one would listen, I pleaded with my eyes because my mouth could not express the darkest fathoms of my grief yet nobody was willing to listen.
I struggled through my sadness in silence, until I found Jet. He was a light that had displaced the wicked mist that had covered my heart. He showed me a future a hope that nobody had shown me before. Jet gave me a purpose to rededicate myself to. He gave me a drive, energy, he gave me a motive: revenge. He told me his story how the Fire Nation took and destroyed everything he held dear, how they let him go so that he could always remember what they had done. The monsters. At that moment I knew he would be my leader. He had reawakened me from my slumber. I saw his vision of a Fire Nation free Earth Kingdom, I was willing to sacrifice it all in order to show him my loyalty but even more to give the death my brother some meaning.
As I stand next to my leader on a hill overlooking an encampment of savages, otherwise known as Fire Nation soldiers, I feel my brother's hand in mine. I feel his warmth, his hair his fiery spirit once again. I look down and I see him again, I search his eyes for their approval but all I see is sadness. I can feel him squeeze my hand and then he is no more. I lift my bow towards a group of soldiers and pull back the taut string, for the first time in years I am not so sure anymore what is right. I no longer feel that sense of pride. My arrow flies silently through the night and extinguishes another light that is the 10 this month. As the camp is swarmed by the freedom fighters I wonder if I can be saved. I bury the feelings behind my forced silence, its more than a longshot, I think as I pull back another bringer of death, it is impossible.