With a heavy heart, I took the train after packing my backpack the best I could, forfeiting what was left of the ‘family’ my real parents tried to leave behind for us. Through the window I watch, as it all fades away. I’m sure that I could think of some good memories from the past to weep about a few days ago, but now it’s just an unending blackness composed of pain, sorrows, and failure. What little good was left now has a black shadow cast over it by the impending doom that came later, and in the back of my head rattled premonitions of a better future that never was, or will be.

Because I might have killed that future.

Never did I imagine that thinking of my past would be quite this sickening, and never in my life would I have imagined actually leaving this place, let alone finding this much cold comfort in it. Yet, here I am. I take a seat, alone, one girl with a pair of swords, just another stranger in the crowd. I burned all the bridges already, but there’s one choice left: Should I acknowledge my heritage?

No. I need to leave my past behind, all of it. Today, I’m nobody; just another ghost riding along the wind, waiting, yearning for a new haunt.