It smelled like the grass after rain. That\u2019s what she noticed first. It reminded her of running through the pouring rain with her family, one lap around the house, as a sort of impromptu tradition. It managed to stick for years each time it rained or snowed. The memory should make her smile\u2014it would\u2019ve if she were sane. But it didn\u2019t. She just curled deeper into herself.<\/p>\n
There were no walls she could see around her. She could not see the floor. She could barely see herself. It wasn\u2019t particularly cold where she was, but neither was it warm. And it definitely wasn\u2019t wet. So she didn\u2019t know why it smelled of sweet, soaked grass.<\/p>\n
Her toes started to burn from carrying the weight of her entire body as she sat in a fetal position. She rocked a little back and forth on them, hoping to ease away the pain. She didn\u2019t exactly have the strength to move much more than that.<\/p>\n
She untucked one arm and held her hand out. Her eyes stared hard at the lines in her palm, as if they might tell her why.<\/p>\n
As if they might give her comfort.<\/p>\n
She could hardly see the lines in her palm anyway. It was so dark where she was. How could something she couldn\u2019t see give her comfort, anyway?<\/p>\n
She curled up again, pressing her forehead to her knees. Her long, red hair fell around her shoulders. She rocked back and forth on her toes. She wasn\u2019t even sure if it was tile or hardwood underneath her feet. All she could tell is that it smelled sweet. Like summers gone by, like friends who traded her away. Like the terror and the fear that overwhelmed her as she lay in bed, the window cracked, and the smell coating the air in her room. It was dark then, too.<\/p>\n
She stopped rocking and ran a hand under her nose, sniffling under her breath. God-forbid anyone knowing how hurt or broken she was. She couldn\u2019t have that. She couldn\u2019t deal with that. The pity. The loathing. How some would treat her as a child and others would slap her wrist and tell her to buck up. She couldn\u2019t handle that.<\/p>\n
Her toes burned and she realized she had stopped rocking back and forth a while ago. She numbly wondered when.<\/p>\n
\u201cAm I doomed to fight these battles alone?\u201d she whispered into her jeans. \u201cAm I doomed to watch people suffer around me, unable to do anything about it?\u201d For a long time no one answered.<\/p>\n
Then one voice spoke up from the darkness: \u201cHave you forgotten we\u2019re here?\u201d<\/p>\n
The girl looked up, green eyes stained with tears to see the first of them all step out of the darkness. Though there was no light anywhere to be seen, the girl could see the woman as if it were midday.<\/p>\n
The woman wore armor. Thick around vital areas and looser around joints. She smiled her side-ways grin\u2014the one she had gotten from her creator.<\/p>\n
\u201cHey.\u201d Jade said.<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd you call me a sap,\u201d said another voice. A teenager stepped from the darkness, also clearly visible. A sash was tied around her eyes.<\/p>\n
One-by-one, the girl\u2019s companions stepped out from the darkness to form a semi-circle around her. Some were tall. Some were short. Some had silver eyes while others had a deep and vibrant blue. Some were fully formed while others were blurred, as if being viewed on a hot day from miles away. Some had wings while others had scales. Some were human. Some were not.<\/p>\n
Regardless of hero or villain status, all stood shoulder to shoulder, gazing down at their crippled creator. Some had soft smiles on their lips. Others held determined glares, though they were not unkind. A few of them held hands.<\/p>\n
The girl sniffed, eyes flicking from one to the other.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe did<\/em> forget about us,\u201d said Aris, a short, thick-boned woman grumbled. She crossed her arms with a tired smile. \u201cThanks a lot, creator.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI didn\u2019t\u2026\u201d Creator started.<\/p>\n \u201cYou totally did,\u201d Alex said, a teenager who held a cigarette between her lips. The red tip of the cig glowed. \u201cI\u2019m a little hurt.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou didn\u2019t think you could come to us?\u201d asked Samuel in a small voice, his soft blue eyes filled with concern. \u201cHaven\u2019t we always been here for you? Hasn\u2019t He?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMiss,\u201d Thaddeous started as he rolled up the cuffs on his suit, \u201cI thought higher of you.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYeah, so did I,\u201d Seymouir said. His black wings flared out a bit with agitation. \u201cHave we ever truly left you?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cListen, jack-ass.\u201d Jade sighed, rubbing the soft area underneath her chin. \u201cCome running to us and you\u2019ll always find Him, okay? And together, you won\u2019t ever feel hopeless.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou promise?\u201d Creator asked.<\/p>\n Jade fixed her with a stern gaze. Together, every single one of them spoke one single word:<\/p>\n \u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n Creator thought she felt grass beneath her feet.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" It smelled like the grass after rain. That\u2019s what she noticed first. It reminded her of running through the pouring rain with her family, one lap around the house, as a sort of impromptu tradition. It managed to stick for years each time it rained or snowed. The memory should…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_is_tweetstorm":false,"jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":[]},"categories":[5],"tags":[189,191,193,190,187,158,192,157,128,188,181,186,114,37,165],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p27tjX-f1","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/winter-publishing.com\/welcome-to-winter\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/931"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/winter-publishing.com\/welcome-to-winter\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/winter-publishing.com\/welcome-to-winter\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/winter-publishing.com\/welcome-to-winter\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/winter-publishing.com\/welcome-to-winter\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=931"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/winter-publishing.com\/welcome-to-winter\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/931\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":932,"href":"https:\/\/winter-publishing.com\/welcome-to-winter\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/931\/revisions\/932"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/winter-publishing.com\/welcome-to-winter\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=931"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/winter-publishing.com\/welcome-to-winter\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=931"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/winter-publishing.com\/welcome-to-winter\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=931"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}