Creative Writing Class-time

Blind Sorrow

This is a story I originally wrote as an "Evoking an Emotion" prompt for my creative writing class, but eventually it became a small sample of a novel I'm creating from it ^^

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All of life is just an abysmal despair. An inescapable pit of sorrow. At least, that's how I see it. Or rather, how I feel it. If I could see then maybe things would be different.

I'm Ouroi Yuki, the youngest, and only, daughter of the Ouroi family, known famously for having the most cynical view on the world.

Unfortunately, there's nothing I can do to change my view or feelings. Sometimes it feels as though I'm bound to a fate of endless misery. While I do live a "lavish" life in the eyes of the public, my life at home is anything but.

At home, my mother spends hours intricately doing my hair, only to give up and snarl in frustration, saying that my hair, white as ash, is still unpleasant to the eye. My father always reluctantly allows me to join in social activities, and only for the hope that the emperor's son will take a fancy to me. He says that he has no other use for a daughter like me. My older brothers loathe me just as much. Fuyuki tells me that my skin is paler than the moonlight, as if I were to keel over and perish at any moment. Kirichou says that, though oh so finely dressed I may be, my thin figure spoils the effect entirely, that I look more like a starved Oni than a young beauty.

Touya hates me most of all.

If there is even so much as a spark of happiness in my life, he finds a way to extinguish it, even if it means burning his hands in the process. A beautiful song of a lark in the morning? Dinner that night. A potential friend? Brand new enemy. Singing while enjoying what little solace an onsen brings? A bucket of cold water and a sneer.

While the others despise me, they at least have the humanity to refrain from stating the obvious. Touya, however, crosses the fine line between indifference and unfiltered hatred.

I hold onto a basket, full of felt petaled flowers, hoping that I can at least satisfy the Ouroi housekeepers, more specifically the head maid, Kikyo, the only person I have relations to that has a shred of tangible kindness. While I walk, a number of emotions coil and twist around in the pit of my stomach, however, I can tell the main ingredient in the mix is dread.

Mother was sure to be lying in wait at home, ready to nip at any imperfections I may display. I gaze out with sightless eyes, nose overwhelmed by pine and carrion from the forest and the last hunt. I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, not sure if it helped my appearance or not, knowing full well that I was in for a world of trouble as soon as my foot touches the tatami mats of our home.

"Mou-Chan, how was the meadow? Colorful? Oh hey, better watch where you're going, because maybe then you'd see that you're about to step on my foot," Touya comes up from somewhere in front of me, speaking with sickeningly fake cheer, mixing in a touch of venom.

I miserably pull off my geta, letting my tabi socks squish into mud, most likely churned up from all the recent storms.

"Now I can't do any damage," I reply monotonously, trying not to let Touya have further reason to deprive me of happiness.

"How polite of you Mou-Chan," Touya tuts, as he snatches away my geta.

My hair flutters, telling me Touya tossed my shoes at random into the surrounding terrain. It would take me hours to find them if I got down on my knees and searched blindly for them, and it would stain my kimono, which would even further aggravate my mother. Touya continues taunting me, before he walks off into the house, cackling away as if he had just told a witty poem to some friends.