A Letter to Edward Napier, 1802

[Urahra 5780]

Edward ( @Hanrahan) would find a letter left for him on the desk in his bright yellow house in Providence.

 

 

To my Dad —

 

I visited Johnny in Redenford the other day. It’s a nice place and John seems really happy there! Golden wheat covers the hillside and the trees smell like fresh rain. It’s the kind of place where you could lie down in the shade, among the soft grass, and sleep for a whole day. He showed me an automatic silo he built for sorting the grain. You know how Johnny is - always trying to improve things and make them more efficient everywhere he goes. He wants to open a cannery and figure out a way to put preserved goods in tin cans for storage. I told him it was a dumb idea because wet food would definitely rust a metal can. He snapped his fingers and said “We’ll line them with wax paper! It’ll be perfect! What would I do without you, Sarah?”

 

But then he said something that just... made me see red for a second. Redenford is still under construction, you know. They have a lot of wheat, but not much else. “I can’t wait until we build some proper animal pens,” John complained. “All I’ve had to eat for weeks is bread and tomatoes. I’d kill for some eggs. Or steak! I’m an orc, damn it! I need meat!”

 

I stared across the table at him. For a moment, my blood just boiled and I could barely contain myself. I wanted to grab my stupid brother by the throat and choke slam him up against a wall. I wanted to slap him silly across the face. “Don’t you dare call yourself an orc!” I felt like roaring at him. “You don’t know anything about what I go through! Your skin is pink! You don’t have tusks! You don’t get angry like I do! No one can even tell you’re a half-breed! For all anyone knows, you’re just a tall, muscular human! You’re not allowed to call yourself an orc - not until people treat you the same way they treat me!”

 

Daddy, in that moment, I hated John so much that I wanted to hurt him. I stopped myself. I’m a civilized person. Civilized people don’t fly off the handle and hurt others, especially their own family. But I felt the orc blood rising up inside me and it took all my willpower to fight it back down.

 

I love Johnny very much. He’s my twin brother. We shared a womb. That’s a bond I’ll never have with anyone except Johnny. But somehow we don’t look very much like twins. Johnny turned out just like you, if someone stretched you out and made you bigger and wider. He ‘passes’ for human and people have always treated him better because of it. When we were kids, the children in our neighborhood played with Johnny, but they ran away from me. When it came time for us to grow up and leave the house, Johnny found work immediately. He’s got a bunch of human friends. Nobody looks at him twice. When they see Johnny, they see a young Edward Napier. When they look at me, well...

 

I was sitting on a bench in Providence earlier. A ten year old boy saw me and screamed out in terror before running away. Daddy, I wore my blue dress today. The one with the flowers on the skirt, with the matching headband. I didn’t look scary at all, but a child still shrieked when he saw me. No matter how properly I dress or how mannerly I act, I’m still just a monster. After that, all I could do was bury my face in my hands and cry.

 

I feel like there’s this enormous pressure building in my chest. Every time someone spits on me. Every time someone calls me an animal, a pig, a boar, a brute. Every time someone crosses the street to avoid me. It feels like I’m dying from a thousand tiny cuts. It feels like if I don’t do something, I’m going to go crazy. I’m going to lose control and turn into the bloodthirsty monster that everyone says I am.

 

All I ever wanted was to be accepted as an Orenian. I wanted to make friends and have a decent job that I didn’t hate. I wanted to make you proud. I hoped that maybe, if I got lucky, I could even meet a nice boy who was able to see past the fact that I’m green. But I can’t hold down a job because of my bad temper. I’m eighteen old and I’ve never had a first kiss. I’m not even allowed to vote because the law doesn’t consider me a real person.

 

I talked to Mr. Phrogerous the other day. You know, the wonk. He said that living in Oren for the first forty year was a struggle. People thought he was some sort of demonic creature sent by Iblees. They mistreated him and disrespected him. Nowadays, though, he’s a member of the Ministry of Civil Affairs. He’s the head archivist and everyone treats him kindly. I thought about Dr. Avern too. How much she suffered under the Pertinaxi regime. How she got beaten up and tortured for no reason other than just being an elf. Yet, like Mr. Phrogerous, she stuck around and proved her worth to everyone. Now she’s the palace doctor and she’s respected everywhere she goes.

 

Why can they do it, but I can’t? I feel like such a baby. So what if people say some unkind things and spit on me? So what if children run away screaming? At least I’m not being beaten, right? At least nobody is trying to kill me! I have it good! I should be grateful for everything I’ve got!

 

And yet...

 

The unkind words. The stares. The little slights. They get under my skin. They hurt. I’m not like Mr. Phrogerous or Dr. Avern. You always told me that it would be hard, Dad. You told me that people would judge me. That I would have to fight for respect. I wish I was strong enough to keep up that fight.

 

But I’m not.

 

You and Johnny both mean the entire world to me. But I think I need a change of scenery. I can't make it in Oren. So, as of today, I’m packing up my things and I’m leaving Providence. Where I’ll end up, I don’t know. I want to find some place where I can be accepted. A place where I can get decent work and maybe a few friends. A place where nobody runs screaming when they see me.

 

My hope is to find a place where people will smile at me and say “Hello, Miss Sarah! It’s a lovely day!” when they meet me in the street.

 

Do you think that’s possible?

 

I guess we’ll see.

 

Please don’t worry about me, Dad. I’ll be fine. When I get the time, I’ll write letters and tell you what I’m up to. Let’s cross our fingers and pray they’re happy letters full of new friends.

 

I love you.

 

Your little girl,
 

 

 

OOC:

 

Just a little letter to explain why I'm shelving Sarah! Thank you to everyone who roleplayed with her up until now. I might bring her back sometime in the future - maybe in a couple months. We'll see!