Her sorrow drags me down like a vengeful current.
The truth sears, a bitter liquor burning down my throat.
I don’t know what disturbs me more: that I killed him, or that I could do it again.
Now chaos surrounds me, pulsing through every breath and heartbeat.
And he’s right. I should. Keep my mouth shut, swallow my rage. Live to see another day.
Guilt cages me like a casket, trapping me in a tomb of my own mistakes.
His voice trails off, and my stomach tightens with guilt. There’s no if anymore. I’ve taken that choice away.
Imagination is a funny thing – we sometimes need to see something before we can truly picture it.
If you’re going to lose, do it with pride.
Hatred simmers beneath my skin, prickling sharp and hot.
The darkness cleanses my pain, cooling the rage.
My heart threatens to break free of my rib cage, pounding so hard I’m convinced the sound will give us away.
Let feeling become your eyes.
The desert provides no foxer meat to eat, no water or coconut milk to drink. All it gifts us with is sand.
My chest tightens, suffocating under the threat of failure.
Mama Agba’s always had a sage sense about her, the wisdom of a person who’s seen beyond her years.
Something twists in his tone. Something dark. Dangerous.
I’ve always known Father was a powerful man. I just never realized how deep that power ran.
The gods that once seemed so far away are closer now than I ever imagined they could be.
He wants to believe that playing by the monarchy’s rules will keep us safe, but nothing can protect us when those rules are rooted in hate.
Strength cannot always roar, she said that day. Valor does not always shine.
Growing up, Father led me to believe that those who clung to the myth of the gods were weak. They relied on beings they could never see, dedicating their lives to faceless entities.
Even asleep, he looked worn, like the longest slumber couldn’t grant him rest.
Our lack of power and our oppression are one and the same, Inan. Without power we’re maggots. Without power the monarchy treats us like scum!
Magic slithers inside me. Venomous, like a thousand spiders crawling over my skin. It wants more of me.
No matter how much I crave peace, the gods have other plans.
When I rose to the throne, I knew magic was the root of all our pain. It’s crushed empires before ours, and as long as it lives, it shall crush empires again.
Safe ended a long time ago.