Saints and Monsters

by Ellen McGinty

My strength comes from not hiding my weakness like a coward.” I will show them all that I’m not broken. Not worthless or a pawn to be bartered, no matter how I feel on the inside.

“You must live with the consequences of your choices for eternity, so every second matters.

“People never like talking about what’s real,” he says. “They twist the truth, ignore it, use it to their advantage. But they rarely accept it as it is.”

“Your sickness isn’t a curse,” he says. “But how you view it is. That’s why I didn’t count you worthy that day. It’s not a judgment on who you are, Meera. But on who you think you are.”

“We all have scars,” she says gently. “But most people carry them on the inside and suffer in silence.”

Meera might as well be the moon for how his heart tugs after her like the tide.

Who knew that thoughts could be curses too? But just like spells, they’re meant to be broken.

“Cherry blossoms are fragile, but no one ridicules them. Your queensguard bear the symbol on their swords and helmets. It is very strong indeed to be fragile and beautiful and not afraid.”

Feelings can’t tell me who I am, that power rests with a deeper magic. With the light and truth that sets the boundaries of this world. I must face my darkness, my weakness, and write on it with light.

A cry strangles his throat, and he worries it will shatter him until there aren’t enough pieces of him left to hold.