* (♛) Sloth ▬▬▬

I ran away. I wasn’t strong enough. Not at that moment in time. I  wiped away all the blood and tears away with the cardigan before tying it around my head to try and stop the bleeding. I dizzily made my way down to the office and gathered up all my willpower and courage to demand my money back. Luckily, the lady at the office was nice and recognised me from the morning anyway. She didn’t question my appearance with a blood-soaked cardigan wrapped around my head but she simply looked worried as she waved good-bye to me as I walked out the door.

I slowly made my way down to the small creek near the cherry blossom tree. If I walked too fast, my throbbing headache would just become worse. As I sat at the edge of the creek, the soft tinkling of the flowing water eased my mind. I carefully removed the cardigan off my head and dunked in it the creek. I watched in awe as my dark blood streamed down. It was as if the water was purifying the cardigan from my demonic drops of blood. From a distance, my blood looked like blooming flowers fluttering in the crystal, blue sky. Just like my old cherry blossom tree in full bloom.

After a while, I lifted the cardigan up from the water. I left it under the tree, neatly folded and still soaked in water. I sat by the tree, and in time, I drifted off to sleep. The soft wind playing across my face and the melodious sound of trickling water brought a smile to my face.

I was suddenly awoken by a loud shriek. My eyes snapped open. As I looked around I saw a small child and a teenager. The teenager was lounging near the wild blackberry bushes, if he reached out, he could grab a few unripe ones without getting pricked by thorns.

As I looked at the small child, I noticed dots of blood appear on her arm. She screamed in pain as she dug her arm deeper into the bush where most of the ripe berries were. ‘That’s right!’ the teenager laughed, not even moving an inch to check if she was okay. I watched in disgust as the little girl brought the blackberries over to the teenager, blood and tears of pain smudged across her face.

I couldn’t watch anymore. I walked up to the little girl and carried her to the creek, gently washing her arms and face. ‘Servant!’ the teenager called through a mouthful of berries. ‘Get me more!’ The little girl struggled from my grip and began making her way to the blackberry bushes again. And once again, her shrieks of pain echoed in the depths of my mind.

Without thinking, I plunged my own hand in the depths of the blackberry bush and began plucking the ripe berries as well. The little girl gave me a sweet little smile as she notice me, tears still streaming down her face like a waterfall.  ‘What do you think you’re doing?’ snaps the teenager. ‘Who do you think you are to order this girl around?’ I snap back, glaring at him.

‘She’s my sister,’ he tells me arrogantly. ‘She will listen to everything I say.’ For a moment, only the soft breeze and the trickling water from the creek could be heard. Memories from the past come rushing back into my mind.  Bullying, harassment, abuse…  I was a doll; lifeless, meaningless… I was played with and thrown away. My stitches were pulled and my fabric was ripped. All was left of me was my cotton stuffing.

My face was flushed in anger. All my feelings of what I wanted to do to my ill-wishers, my ‘friends’ exploded onto the teenager. I grabbed his hand and shoved it into the bushes. ‘See?’ I yelled at him angrily. ‘See how it feels to be pricked by a blackberry bush?’ The thorns of the blackberry bush opened up some of my old scars and slowly, his arm was covered in my crimson blood. But I didn’t care. I simply watched in amusement as I saw his relaxed, lazy face turn into fear. Slowly I let go of his hand, feeling much better. It was as if I punched every bully who hurt me, back in the face.

‘Take care of your sister,’ I tell him, quietly. ‘After your parents are gone, at least you still have her as family; because if she goes, you’re alone. Get your lazy self up from the ground sometimes and do something for her! Cherish her existence as if it were your own! She’s your sister!’  The little girl looked at the blood on her older brother’s arm, wide-eyed. ‘Brother!’ she squealed, running over to see if he was okay.

After that, I left him and his sister alone. Every day, I walked up to the cherry blossom tree to check that the cardigan was still there and the tree was still alive; and every day, I saw the two siblings play together happily, picking blackberries together. I felt really happy inside. I felt like I had helped someone; like I was actually a meaning to this world.

One day, they didn’t come. I searched everywhere but I couldn’t find them. In the end, I saw the brother sitting on the curb, his face buried in his hands. When I asked him where his sister was, he replied: ‘She is gone,’ as he pointed to a car parked by the road. I awkwardly tried to comfort him, putting an arm around his shoulder as I whispered: ‘It’s okay. Go home and tell your mum to make you a hot cup of tea. It will make you feel better. I’ll go and find a police.’ I quickly said my prayers, hoping that the police would actually let me talk to them.  

But he simply looked horrified as he whispered back: ‘She is gone too.’

“What about your dad?’ I asked slowly.

‘He slept in hospital after surgery, and never woke up.’

 He was just like me. He was just like the other little boy. He was alone, abandoned, lost in misery. Right now, he must be drowning; drowning in the thoughts of regret and despair. I found myself lost too. ‘What should I do?’ I asked the teenager. ‘What can I do?’

He looked up at me; an echo of his sister’s crying face was in his own. ‘Let me find my way out,’ he told me, quietly sobbing into his hands again. ‘I will find myself and become a stronger person.’ I knew it was my cue to leave him alone. He looked so pitiful but the determination in his face as he dragged those few sentences out of his own mouth told me he was going to be okay.

I began thinking as I left him. If he could find such strength to force himself to move on, why couldn’t I? I have lived most of my live, dwelling on my negative thoughts. Whilst cursing my solitude, I kicked a rock, letting it fly in one of the small bushes. I detested my life. I’ve always tried to wait for happiness to find me, but I guess it never found me, leaving me to wallow in the darkness by myself. I always let the past repeat itself, when I could decide for the future. I always let people betray me, when I could already see their true intentions.

In the end, the one that always ends up hurting is me.