Raphtalia's Diary

Welcome to Raphtalia's Diary, a place for short stories and autobiographical scribblings as written by Raphtalia.

Symphony
A familiar symphony.

Damp stone. Dripping water, reverberating off a puddle of water as crisply as a chime- what some might say was its own, deeply personal form of torture.

''Drip. Drip. Drip.''

This was her salvation. Had always been her salvation. But who was she now that the grime had been washed away?

An embarrassment. She wanted to cry, to scream. Was she upset with who she had allowed herself to have been, or who she had allowed herself to become?

She had always been an embarrassment, always been...she shuddered, sobs wracking her thin frame as she began to weep, unloveable.

That's why he'd done it. Raphtalia was not enough for anyone. Not just Raphtalia. She was always too bland, too stupid, too ugly, too talentless, too disgusting, too...much. Too like herself.

This was the woman, the girl, that everyone had hated. This was the girl who should have died, fifteen years ago.

And yet...that was the girl the gods had decided to save. The girl who was true to herself, who lived honestly. The girl who let the past stay in the past, who grew into a woman who didn't care how people treated her. She loathed that girl, that woman. She hated her. Hated herself. Hated who she had been, who, deep down...she knew she still was. The bile came then, and her shaking, quivering, lovely body heaved and retched, but nothing came up.

Something used to come up.