49. For Real Life
“Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don't know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarnishings.”
― Anais Nin
Ragna
The wind rushed through the forest. Blowing till the branch of my rope attached to my ankles swayed me along with it, the sun peeked through the canopy. The light touched my toes and then to my leg. I watched it all upside-down. The blood pooled in my head, but I refused to move. I’m not going to cave. Not when my stupid father thinks he’s right.
He had tied me to a tree before, upside-down and around the ankles. But he forgot to account that the trees in this realm are alive and healthy. Trees in the underworld break on their o
