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Forced into a corner with nowhere to go. Her mind panics and raves over what to do. She hears no sound besides the blood rushing to her ears. She sees no person besides the beast in front of her, threatening to do nothing but hurt. She felt nothing besides the raw urge to run. These swirling emotions were forcefully squeezed into her. They were forcefully packed into every crevice of her body, fold of her brain, and inch of her skin. Her thoughts howled like wind and created a storm that left her stumbling.
She couldn’t stumble though. She couldn’t run or hide. She was forced into this corner with the ability to only cower away in fear. Forced to face the monster approaching her, her emotions turned into aggression. What was known to others as an attack was known to her as a defense. All she could do was defend herself, forcing her brain to become a vile creature that could not be tamed. Her limbs turned into crude weapons to bash and claw against her aggressors.
She was turned into an animal. Compared to a mangy mutt with rabies and only known for its ill intent. As she bit and clawed, all saw her as this creature. Every cry of pain from the nonstop burn of touch and pressure against her skin and bones was not heard over the pitiful sounds of the beast who pushed too far. No one heard her pleas for help over the screeches and yowls of the very thing that harmed her. Even after the aggressor was torn to shreds for its actions, she didn’t yield. Only until her mind fizzled out and her limbs felt heavy, til her bones ached and the fire that ignited her blew out.
The monster was gone.
The beast was dead.
She was safe.
Slathered in black fluids and static, she relents. Standing atop a mangled corpse she finds herself…relieved. She was safe. Her mind recovered from the scarring and burns that scorched it and was released from the depths of pure instinct. Her defenses were finally put down and left behind clear thought. As if something had clicked in her mind, a memory nuzzled deep inside unlocked. A moment similar to this where she knew the aftermath. She knew all of it. She turned around her now clean and crisp surroundings, and there they were.
The looks of horror and pure disgust. Fear piercing straight through all of their bodies and being broadcasted right back out. Yet she still didn’t see it. She didn’t see the way they slowly backed away, afraid of
it.
Afraid of
her
. She didn’t notice the way they cowered away from her and hid behind each other. Yet like a dog, she happily approaches them, head high, tail wagging, and unknowing of her actions. She knows not of the revulsion she caused in the people most dear to her.
Even as her body shows no ill intent or harm, they see nothing but a snarling hound. They see a mongrel that drips saliva and bares its blood stained teeth at them. As the mongrel approached its claws clicked against the ground, for them sounding like certain doom, their only thought was to flee. Unlike it, they had the space to, the freedom to run away. They were allowed to leave unlike it, who was bred to only cower in the darkest corners to be used by the beasts that surrounded it. So they did as they knew. They ran. They fled from the monster who did as it knew. Left alone in its sorrows, it could only watch helplessly as all it loved ran from it.
It wasn’t a beast to itself. It wasn’t a cruel creature seeking to hurt. But that is what it was turned into. Even though it had a name. Even though it was just a girl. That was all stripped from it. It was left exposed, its wounds fresh and throbbing. All it could do was repair itself. Lick its wounds. Repair
her
mind. She had a name. She must drill that through her head. She was not beast or savage. She was Pomni. Despite being named like a dog, no previous knowledge of one so she was given one that fit, it was hers. The name that she had to wear. On papers or collars. On her tongue or others. It was the name she had.
She had to pick herself up and keep going. Pomni had to keep going. Even after she ruined everything for the people around her, she’d have to return. She’d return loyal, as ever just as the mutt she claims not to be. She’ll come back, head held low awaiting punishment for her crimes. The crimes forced into her hands. Like a gun shoved into her hand by man and him pulling the trigger with her fingers. Being blamed for her mind.
That’s all she knew.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
What’s the difference between healing and recovering? To Pomni, healing can be seen as a mild inconvenience, something you say when you know you can push through. Recovery is uncertain. Uncertainty can mean death. When you recover, it’s slow, painful, and you’re scared. Recovery is mental, a long journey to return to not only your physical state but also your mental state.
No one looked at her anymore. They all ignored her, fearing that if they even acknowledged her, they’d be next. Caine called it an unforeseen attack. They didn’t understand her warnings or hear her pleas to just leave her alone. They believed she was unstable and untrustworthy, but they trusted that monster. They pitied him and took care of him. They loved him like a pet. They cleaned him of fleas, they rubbed behind his ears, and they spoke to him ever so gently. They helped him heal.
Pomni was jealous of it. She was jealous to see the way they cared for him and how they treated him better than her. They were equals, right? Why didn’t they like her anymore? She didn’t bare her teeth at them. She didn’t snarl and snap her jaws. She had been good since last time. It was only a mistake made out of fear.
Why did they hate her so much?
Why did they want to keep her locked away and unseen by all?
They wanted to keep her away from them. They wanted to lock her in a cage and watch her bite at the bars to prove that she was just aggressive and in desperate need to be put down. She no longer gets to hear the sweet words of comfort or the cooes of love directed at her. She no longer felt her warm hands on her face, soft fabric thumbs gently encircling where her cheek bones would be.
Oh, how she missed it all. Now she’s forced to sit in the silence of her room, isolated from all and exiled to sit in cold discomfort. She listens to the others talk, hoping that they'd even dare mention her or include her. She watched them laugh with each other during their adventures. She felt the warmth radiating off of their bodies from afar but couldn’t even dare to move close to them.
Despite the growing malice and jealousy deep in her soul, she waited. She waited to be accepted back. She would wait until her dying breath if she could. Loyal to a fault, like a dog who waits at the door of its iron kennel. It watches the families pass by and whines at the back of the cage. The workers unanimously decide it’s too violent and slap a label over its name. The families don’t see it, but they do see the warnings.
“Vicious.”
“Dangerous.”
“Unworthy.”
But she still hopes that one day they’ll open her cage and love her again. She hopes they’ll smile at her again and help her make that recovery. That’s all she wishes for as she stares at the door to her own room, just waiting to hear just an ounce of care for her. She was nothing but a dog, loyal to a fault even in the face of fear and malice.