The sound of dramatic thunder brought with it, an agonizing moment of grief for the child, with the strength of ten thousand demons. A heartache like no other was born and would not release her. Fear washed over her heart and swallowed her whole.
Defeat claimed victory to yet another battle in the well. He delighted in what he saw, agonizing fear on the child's face. He could feel her quake as tears overwhelmed her. He held onto something hidden from many - the inner pain of the child's own love, whom found solace in euphoric dreams of self harm.
This memory, which was still very much alive, the child had hoped Defeat had not claimed as his own. Yet, there it was, staring at her in glistening black onyx. Surely the color matched that of Defeat's heart.
With eyes wide, and desperate, the child reached for such, as to reclaim the wickedness in hopes that in time, her own love would recover from the release of such an act. Defeat, toying with the child, kept the memory just out of her reach.
Hope? Please help me. Yet the pain only increased.
The child's daughter's life became a vision before her. As though a silent movie played in defiant black and white, asking to be heard. She wept for her daughter's inner pain. How could this precious one cause herself relief by allowing the blood to flow from the hidden cuts on her skin, and her heart?
The numb feeling returned as her tears and heart wept for not knowing how to better understand. This, among many other trials in her life began to surface like steam bubbles from a hidden pool of a scalding spa. The burn never came, but left deep scars on her soul. She knew her fear of Defeat only increased the hold he had on her life.
The child screamed in agony - 'I MUST GET OUT OF THIS WELL'!
