Page 4 of Kingdom of Lies

“What?” I reply. Is that the only thought in his mind right now?

“You’re ugly, but you’ll do,” he giggles.

“Oh, fuck off,” I say, I’ve had enough for one day. I move quickly away from the bag of rotten bones that he is.

“What about a wank then? I'll settle for that,” he calls out from behind me.

I feel like going back and kicking him in the balls. I feel the anger so thick inside me that I almost do. But who needs more trouble around here?

I make my way from the square, leaving its dead trees and broken picket fences behind, and take the small road that leads towards the river. That’s when I hear the rattle of their carts.

I pull my cloak across me and lower my head at the expectation of the approaching elf soldiers that have begun to appear around the bend up ahead.

Gods, I hate them, vile creatures, that relish in the torture and misery they seem to think they have the right to inflict upon us. I need to be careful.

I move as close to the edge of the path as they rattle toward me. I see the human slaves that pull their cart, their faces thin with punishment and exhaustion. I watch as one of them stumbles.

Then, the crack of a whip.

“Get up, you bastard,” one of the elf soldiers shouts.

The fear creeps into my stomach as they get closer, I must keep my head down, don’t look up, don’t make eye contact.

“What have we got here?” I hear one of them say. I keep moving.

“Would ya really want a piece?” another one of the dark elves says.

I feel their eyes upon me. I turn on my ankle slightly, almost losing my balance, but manage to regain it quickly.

“Nah, rather fuck a dripir,” one of them says.

“She smells like one!” another adds, and they begin to cackle collectively.

And their interest in me is over. I leave them behind, and they leave me. Ugly is how they see me, and ugly I must be. The clothes I wear I may hate, but they protect me also. They keep me hidden away.

As I continue my journey, with the occasional pang of pain from my buttocks, it’s not long before it all changes and life and color seem to return. Slowly mind. Much like the dawn of my youth, the further away from the village you get, the grays and rotten browns turn to bright greens, and the scent of evergreen replaces the smell of piss.

In the distance, I can hear the river as I come to the little path that will lead me to it. I follow it and marvel at the bright color of the brushes that line it. I can hear birds in the trees signing me a path as the light fades, painting a new world around me.

I love the smell of fresh, cool water. It fills my nostrils as I reach the river's edge. Here, for me, is peace as I look around to ensure no eyes are in the brushes or behind the rocks that protect me here.

I know I am safe here, but I always like to double-check.

I remove my cloak, ensuring the piece of bread is safely placed upon it. Then, my skirt slowly over my ass the best I can, but the material catches, and the pain once again returns with a vengeance.

“Argh,” I can’t help but cry out. There’s a sickness in my stomach, and I steady myself against a rock until it passes. Then, I remove my shirt and find myself naked under the twilight.

As I approach the water's edge, the air feels good, cool but not cold. I pause for a second and stare at my reflection in the water.

My body is thin and bony. My face is frail and worn. I wonder how anyone could ever look upon me as beautiful and desirable. I imagine what the touch of kindness and love would feel like, the warmth and musk of another being holding me close and safe against their body.

I fear I will never know these things, but I have the river to embrace me for now. So I enter it and feel the cleansing tingle of the water surrounding me.

How beautiful to have it lift the smell and muck from my body. Tend carefully to the wounds inflicted on me.

I swim backstroke, letting my hair dip below the surface of the water. Then I turn, letting my breasts and head sink into the water, and I open my eyes unto another world. A world beneath, away from hardship, pain, and unkind voices that chase me daily.

I stay beneath until the need for air brings me to the surface. I notice the twilight has turned darker, but I still must try to wash my clothes.

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