Branches smacked into Chara's face and roots threatened to trip their feet as they climbed Mt. Ebott, half-delirious with exhaustion. Dried tearstains were smeared across their flushed cheeks, evidence of the tantrum they had thrown. Earlier that day, their mother had said that they were worthless. They were a burden. They should never have been born. As she continued on in her screechy voice, Chara dodged around her and ran out of the house, tears still streaming down their face.
None of her words had come as a surprise, of course - they'd known what she thought of them ever since the occasion when she'd found them kneeling by the corpse of a bird. That time, it hadn't even been Chara's doing - they'd found it by the road, fresh blood staining its ruffled feathers red. The violent loss of life had fascinated them and drawn them to it like iron to a magnet. Then their mother had picked them up rushed them home. Behind closed doors, she slapped them, calling them a little freak. She locked them in the pitch blackness of the basement, and told them to think about what they had done wrong.
Chara had tried going to other adults for help, but nobody believed them. Why would they, when Chara's parents were respectable members of the community, and Chara was the ungrateful brat who always picked fights with the other children?
"Demon child," the neighbors had called them.
"Her parents must be saints for putting up with her," they'd said.
Chara hated the world and every human in it. Sometimes they wished that everything would disappear; sometimes they wished that they themselves would. They were determined to make one of those wishes come true that day. After all, travellers who climb Mt. Ebott are said to disappear.
The blisters on their feet were aching in protest of their long hike. Distracted by pain and anger, Chara failed to notice the gash in the earth or the twisting, snake-like vine in their path. They tripped, tumbling headlong into the pit. As they fell, they caught a brief glimpse of golden flowers - then they hit the bottom, and everything went black.
None of her words had come as a surprise, of course - they'd known what she thought of them ever since the occasion when she'd found them kneeling by the corpse of a bird. That time, it hadn't even been Chara's doing - they'd found it by the road, fresh blood staining its ruffled feathers red. The violent loss of life had fascinated them and drawn them to it like iron to a magnet. Then their mother had picked them up rushed them home. Behind closed doors, she slapped them, calling them a little freak. She locked them in the pitch blackness of the basement, and told them to think about what they had done wrong.
Chara had tried going to other adults for help, but nobody believed them. Why would they, when Chara's parents were respectable members of the community, and Chara was the ungrateful brat who always picked fights with the other children?
"Demon child," the neighbors had called them.
"Her parents must be saints for putting up with her," they'd said.
Chara hated the world and every human in it. Sometimes they wished that everything would disappear; sometimes they wished that they themselves would. They were determined to make one of those wishes come true that day. After all, travellers who climb Mt. Ebott are said to disappear.
The blisters on their feet were aching in protest of their long hike. Distracted by pain and anger, Chara failed to notice the gash in the earth or the twisting, snake-like vine in their path. They tripped, tumbling headlong into the pit. As they fell, they caught a brief glimpse of golden flowers - then they hit the bottom, and everything went black.
