Inside The Mind Of Laila Darkspire

[MamaBearJade 2088]

My name is Laila Darkspire. I have decided it is time I start writing down my thoughts and making a journal of my life. Feel free to comment. It is time people learned who I am, and who I once was. I will update this as often as possible.

 

 

My Early Years

My mother, Meela, and my father, Alos, were proud the day my sister, Kaila, and I were brought into the world. Although father wanted boys, he was proud none the less. Our first few years are more of a blur but Kaila was the first and the best at everything. She was walking and talking months before I was. She was truly a gifted girl. Even though I knew father and mother preferred her over me, I never felt jealous. She was always there for me, always helping me. Kaila had mother’s blue eyes and father’s black hair. She looked beautiful. There were times I was jealous of her, yes, many times.

When I was five, I got a hold of father’s hunting knife and chopped her hair off. At the time, I thought it was funny, but instead it failed me. Kaila loved having her hair short and kept it that way, often telling me “now your hair is prettier.” Kaila never let my pranks bother her, even when they ended up disastrous. As we grew older, father would take us out on hunting trips. Kaila was a soft hearted girl who could not kill an animal. Father would down an animal and show us how to end its life quickly and how to skin it. Kaila would run, hiding from the blood and death. I would stay and watch. I was fascinated by it. He would give thanks to Malin for the kill.

Soon we turned ten and Kaila was forced to hunt with me. Although she hated hunting, she was good at it. She would shoot the animal with her bow and I would finish them off so she wouldn’t have to see it. We made a good team, and father would watch on. Mother would try to teach us herbalism, and like always, Kaila was a natural. I struggled, but Kaila found ways for me to learn. I soon became interested in the bad herbs, testing them on my blades as I grew older. During one hunt, I found a wounded rabbit and was surprised to see the fear and pain in its eyes. I don’t know what drove me to it, but it became something I had to see.

When Kaila and I would hunt, I would take longer and longer, at first just watching them suffer. Slowly I began putting them into the pain. I was about twelve when father found me removing a rabbit’s tail as it slowly bled to death. He took away my knife and began yelling at me. At the time, I thought I was in the right. I screamed at him, letting something take over as I yelled. I don’t remember what it was, but my anger grew worse as he yelled at me, something I inherited from him, anger. He grew more and more angry as I back talked to the point he lashed out. I knew he didn’t mean to hurt me so badly, but it hurt. He had struck me, blade still in hand.

A deep cut was left across my left cheek. Horrified, he grabbed mother and she tended to my wounds. He soon left me be after that. He stopped going with me on hunts. I soon slipped further and further into the sadistic ways of torturing animals. Kaila soon became engrossed in herbalism and stopped hunting with me as well. As the years went, we separated more and more. I learned what I could from Kaila about herbalism, while taking my anger out on helpless animals, usually whatever we would have for food. Father and I would constantly bicker and yell at each other until mother stepped in. Soon we were adults, about to find our own way.

I don’t know what drew her to me that day. We were about seventeen when the unthinkable happened. I had managed to trap a wolf. It had bitten me during the hunt and taken my first kill, a rabbit. Angered by the stupid beast, I tracked it down and tore at it, cutting its fur and flesh till it was crimson. It was then I heard Kaila. I never will forget the day. Kaila called my name, maybe four or five times before she tried to pull me away from the nearly dead wolf. I wish I could say I stopped myself, but I didn’t. I turned on her as she begged and yelled for me to stop. Instead of stopping, I lunged. I remember every detail of the attack.

Kaila screamed for me to stop, to think about what I was doing, but I had lost in. In anger I had wrapped my left hand around her throat and squeezed. She was weaker than me, but still she fought hard. I stabbed her, over and over in the arms, the shoulder. I watched her struggles weaken as I choked and stabbed her in rage. It wasn’t until she had completely stopped moving that father appeared. He ripped me away from her and into a nearby tree. Dazed, I finally realized what I had done as he cradled her in his arms. “Murderer!” he yelled. He set Kaila down as I sat there, staring at the body of my sister.

Within seconds I felt his hands around my throat. I did not even fight him as my mind was focused on what I had done. He went to pull the knife from my hands when mother appeared. Sweet naïve mother. She managed to get him off of me. She fled with me, unable to believe that I had done something so horrible as to kill my sister. We ran, unable to return home as she feared it would lead to my death. Kaila was the first of many that I would now regret. From then on, I was on the run, unable to stay in one place.