The sun rises once more on the City of Chaos,

It was a shockingly peaceful day, where usually the smell of gunpowder and blood was a companion of the citizens,

Its absence reminds the city, one full of violence, that even a day of peace can be achieved.

Though not everyone could feel this peace, as the night began to rise, the agitation of a dragon descendant only grew.

~   ~   ~

 

Charity tumbled back and forth in her bed, aggressively mumbling to her illusionary detractors,

Her long draconic tail, slamming against the wall constantly, growing ever more constant,

Before long, she stirred, driven to get up and out of her bed, and walk to the room's mirror.

Her gaze moves across her body, trying to silence the errant hallucinations as she begins to rant to herself while being reminded of her heritage.

 

It is on days like this, I recall what sort of family I was born to,

One that scrambled for the scraps left by the giants,

To regain the lost legacy, of a supposed golden era that my ancestors once breathed.

In this, I was the youngest of my three siblings,

I should have been no one noteworthy.

 

I would have given all of those 'gifts' and curses to live that blissful life of normalcy,

Yet my accursed mother's efforts to produce a child with dragon blood succeeded with me,

She told grand stories of how my birth would help usher in our family's golden age,

Of how I would bring about change in the broader world of magic.

 

I was not meant for the baser colors that the simple ordinary people lived,

I was not to live the life those people carved away to the end,

I was to be my parent's shining silver.

A colorful star that would shine upon our family, to lead and to bestow prestige onto 'us'.

 

I was told that only on special days as a reward would I get to play with the other children,

Only through continued work would I be granted my freedom,

Only through my continued progress would I be allowed to call her 'mother',

That all of this would make sense once I took a leading role in the family.

 

It was my experience in this forsaken place that shattered me and made me realize that,

In this realm where everyone has to scrape by, a City full of chaos,

I am Worthless, far from the shining silver,

Another among the many walks of life that try to get by.

 

I may be even below average,

For as many tell me, I must be stupid, I must be dumb,

Barely able to socialize, barely able to recognize danger, barely able to realize cues from the world,

That I am unworthy of my purpose beyond the blood I spill.

 

When it came time to fly, I found I had no wings I could do so with,

When it came to communicating with others, I found I could only sneer and posture,

When it came time to help, all I could do was stumble after others.

 

It is enough,

It is time, time to remind myself once more,

I am no longer your 'daughter, I am leaving that history behind and acknowledging the bitter truth,

You did not grant me the ability to fly, to speak, or to aid,

And for that, You are not worth calling my parents with care and affection you would not give me.

 

All that I can do now is to cling to what grants me an Identity still, to what calls me Charity,

Who look at me and find a person they care for and not a tool,

I will find and have found new role models who will teach me how to live and how best to think.

 

As it is now clear to me in everything you've done, all you had made out of me,

Was an empty doll that danced to a song that others would play,

Just so that the doll could fill itself with their approval, to feel empty no longer.

 

Are you proud of me, Mother? Father?

This is who you made of me.

Are you proud of what you created?

Are you proud of your efforts to strip my identity, Oh my dear Parents?

 

Thoughts of 'Flag of Charity'