The Victim or the Victor??
‘She is our hero’ the echo of their voices still ringed in her ears
Tears rolling down from her eyes, she looked at her own reflection
Trailing her fingers over her burned scars, she looked at her now unrecognizable face
Unrecognizable to her folks, to her mates and to herself
She is no hero, heroes thought that the greatness they had was the result of their fate
if anything she only hated her fate
She wasn't ready to fight a war that wasn’t hers
She wasn't prepared to be a victim of the cruelties of the society
Touching the burned skin of her fingers, she winced, the pain of her skin burning afresh in her memory
She wasn't ready for any of this
Rising like a phoenix, was the only option left with her
Imperishable, yet her ashes spoke the tales of her misery and hatred
She didn’t want the mantle of a hero, it was a choice she had to make, not her wish
Her scars were not the souvenirs of the societal wars, they were a part of her
She is no hero but a mere human leaving behind a faint trail, living on..