Rain

If I could have touched the dark sky I am sure it would have felt like soft silk. There would be a white cotton lining to warm the celestial body enveloped behind the stars. With my child wrapped under my kimono I envied the small baby sleeping peacefully. He was calm and moved ever so slightly when dreams invoked his senses.

My legs ached, arms throbbed and body's oils soiled my every inch of skin. Tears came easily, no matter what the reason. I wanted to curl up and cry for days. Resting wasn't an option. I was running away. My villain had tracked me further then I thought he could. It was in a quiet misty valley where I had taken another life to save my own and my son's. The life had been of a rather young woman. She didn't look more then fifteen. I wept for her. She wouldn't let me go. I begged.

This had become a new tactic I had adopted. It hadn't been successful, yet. First I would ask for our lives. Asking always seemed fair in such a situation. Why take a life when I could spare it. If asking did not amount to anything I then fell to my knees and begged.

I had begged this girl. She had a style of attack with her sword that made my counters seem meager. She was skilled and I begged her to let me live, so as to spare her own. She had laughed at this. Her demon-like smile was the answer to my genuflect. It was there, close to the ground that I cut her down. It was surprisingly easy after she had shown such skill. A quick step forward and flash of steel and it was over. Pausing only for a moment to say a prayer for her I ran.

These trees had been the first place I had stopped and it had been a day and a half. I could move no more and fell with my son in my arms. Suddenly a wind flew towards us. As if calling us to move forward for fear of the pursuing death. He had been following us for many days. His strength was unmatched by any man. Death knew I could not run forever, but I would try.

Imploring my legs to stand and arms to help allowed a yell to erupt from my chest. I cried to my ancestors to help. I begged. I had gotten better at it as of late. With hands shaking and my head barely staying upright my feet seemed to take charge. The wind called to me to move faster. I couldn't. Thunder called to it's partner Lightening. I suddenly realized why the wind had called, but it was not to me. The wind had called to her friends to come and play. The weather seemed to meet for a gathering of play. Rain arrived, finally to join the old friends. The earth seemed happy to have such a lively party late into the evening.

I could not tell if it were tears or rain on my face. Part of me liked being wet and almost clean. Taking a moment to forget where I was would bring unknown danger. Knowing this I could not help but allow the wet rain to penetrate my whole being. It was only when I heard my son crying that I realized I was not alone in the woods.

There stood a man, without warning, in front of me. Shocked I fell to the forest floor and my son's body nearly fell to the dirty ground. The dark figure was so tall I thought he may have to bend down to get into any house. His swards were not drawn, but he was a samurai for his body spoke of his training and discipline. Face in total shock at seeing my child calling for help, the tall mountain of a man kneeled in front of us quickly and with a gentle voice asked me if I needed help. This was the moment I could not hold onto my senses. I fell again, but this time it was into a deep sleep and not the protective tree branches.

A Smile

It’s only a few muscles moving your face. It’s only showing your teeth. Monkeys use this primal reflex to show aggression. Unmasking the strong and dangerous teeth shows they may be stronger then the other monkeys.

Of course the smile has destroyed men and women. Emperors and peasants both find themselves smitten with objects of the opposite sex quickly flashing their own white teeth. Geisha’s always have teeth the same shade of their skin. It’s the fashion. Lips are pulled constantly apart in a happy man’s life.

Smiling was annoying for me. People smiled back. I hated that. It was almost as if the world wanted to show me how stupid I looked. Every sex hungry man would open that toothy gape and assume I liked it. I had to smile. I gave up fighting he urge to growl. It’s difficult to survive as a courtesan when you don’t smile.

How could I have known that with just a smile my whole world would turn upside down? How could I have imagined that a quick, sweet gummy grin would make me pause and fall in love all over again? This is the magic of an infant.

His intoxicating smile made me melt. It wasn’t just the lips parting but also the engaging eyes that sparkled. The round cheeks became even more prominent and the small corners of his mouth seemed to have slight lines. I fell in love.

Holding this creature I had carried on my front for eight weeks I felt tears on my cheeks knowing his smile was for me. It was genuine. It was honest. It showed how much he needed me. The smile also reminded me how much I needed him. Feelings of utter pleasure from such a short, small gesture could not be explained any other way then heavenly. I could feel the whole world stop and stare at him. The trees bowed, the birds quieted and my pursuers left my mind at this exciting acknowledgement of my work.

Everything I had done had been worth it. The nine months of complete unhappiness. The hours of wrestling with him to leave my body. The tired hours. The ache of my breasts. The pain of my body. It had all be worth the unthinkable effort to bring this baby to me.

Every man I had faced with a sword, every nightmare, even the filthy act of conception had been worth it. I now had my payback, a smile.

How haunting a thought that a smile is worth all my work. How magical

Nightmares

Wide awake. Wide awake and thinking. Wide awake and worrying. Why am I wide awake? I am exhausted yet I lay here wide awake. I can’t stop thinking. I can’t stop hearing every small sound. I can’t stop any of it. I who would meditate for hours at a time and close my senses to everything around me. I who could decide when I would open my hearing. I could pin point it to any sound and focus on it. There may be someone yelling in my ear but I was able to drown them out with the song of a bird three trees away.

What has happened to my hearing? Why do I only hear my child? I suppose this is my body’s own way of turning me into a mother. My body is still recovering from childbirth. My skin is looser and my body is so much more tired then it used to be. I want to sleep. All I want is sleep.

I remind myself to not wish it. Sleep gives me no peace. Sleep only brings fears alive in dreams. Only last night I fell asleep hidden in the trees when I was awoken by the feeling of weight being taken from my chest. My son was being taken away from me. The Shogun’s men had found me. I had been helplessly sleeping. I couldn’t move my arms. They felt as if weights had been tied to them. My wrists were free from chains or rope but they were heavy. My vision was skewed. My legs trembled with weakness.

I was completely incapacitated. I was completely taken by surprise. Unable to move as I watched the wild faces of the Shogun’s men. They wore masks. White as snow and just as cold. I watched. I could do nothing else.

He was screaming for me. He needed me. I destroyed his trust. He trusted me to keep him safe. He trusted my arms. After they had pulled him from my body I watched as these masked beings ripped away the bonds I had had with this innocent creature. I felt my insides twist with vomit. I felt my heart breaking. I had never felt such pain. I had never been so destroyed.

Suddenly my body was mine again and I shot up in a standing position. Sweat all over my body. I grabbed at my chest and startled my son. He cried aloud. I had never been so happy to hear his cry. After a moment he was calm and playing with my hair happily. He was still in my arms, he still clung to my body, his trust still attached him to me.

What dreams a woman has. What awful images a killer has. Perhaps if I were a man my victims would not torture me in my sleep. I am paying a price for murdering men who had once held their mothers breast to their mouths. I am paying the price of a Samurai who has fallen in love with a defenseless creature. Paying the price of loving this small soul after taking so many souls myself. My fear is that someone will take him. My fear is that someone will hurt him like I have hurt. I know how to torture a human to the breaking point. I know how to make those last few seconds agony. I am paying the price of my knowledge.

So, I am awake. Exhausted, yet wide awake with fear. It’s been too long in the forest. It’s been too long hiding. I must find a sanctuary. My mother gave birth to me in a monastery. Perhaps her spirit will guide me to those protected walls. There my son and I will be safe. There he will know love. There, perhaps, I will stop dreaming.

Closing my eyes, I ask my mother to send me strength. Send me strength and help me to protected shelter. Moments later I am asleep. Dreamless, forgiving sleep.

For Granted

Men take peeing for granted. They, having never had to sit to pee, would never understand why I am miserable. Peeing in the wilderness after giving birth for a woman is miserable. Childbirth was not as bad in memory as I think it was in the moment. These six weeks after childbirth I believe I will remember until I die. Men take their easy part in child rearing for granted. They only must add a bit of filth to the mixture before it’s completed. Men take a lot of things for granted. Women for one thing.

The Shogun took me from my father. I was twelve. My mother pleaded for me. She had no other children to hold. She had no one else to spoil. I was the last and that is why the Shogun wanted me. With my brothers dead I was the last piece of assurance my father would stay loyal. So I was taken.

My mother was a good woman. I didn’t understand at the time why she made such a fuss. I wanted her to keep her head up and wish me well. Instead she was on her knees pleading with the guards to let me stay. Begging to make a story about my death to the Shogun so I could stay with her. I was disappointed in her. Knowing now what a small innocent child does to ones heart I understand her reaction to her last child being ripped from her. Having more then eight children I could not understand now, but losing the only one you have, I now know that is enough to make any mother plead and beg.

It was her hands I remember the most. Her eyes were in so much pain and her body shook with fear but you could tell her hands were angry. She seemed for a moment to have the hands of a tiger. They were soft but strong and I could feel the muscles tense just the right way to make them dangerous weapons. She also knew how to fight but never did so in the light. I don’t think my father ever knew of it.

Covered in darkness one night I came to my mother’s chambers because I had woken from a frightful dream. Children often go to their parent’s rooms for comfort but don’t always stumble upon their parent’s secret. There she stood, still as a tree. I watched her eyes follow her outstretched hands. They were arched slightly. I watched as her palms flattened with her slight movement forward. She seemed to be so still and yet moving. Suddenly she spun and became a flash of white kimono. It was almost as if she had started flying as a crane would. Perfect form, never once did she stumble. It was a dance, one that would have killed the partner. It was beautiful. She never knew I had seen her. I never saw it again.

Part of my disappointment with her when I was taken was that she still held her secret close. Never once did I see the white crane she had possessed under moonlight. I hated her for never showing it. Of course now that I have been a slave I know how unimportant my skill was to my master. It’s too bad he took me for granted as they did to my mother. For unlike my mother I showed my skill. I unleashed it on my master’s sons. I reminded him what not to take for granted.

But, I still stumble in the night. Keeping my son alive. I sleep in the shadows with him close to my body. I wake in my own filth and cannot do anything about it. When I do find the small rivers I can dip my bottom half in, while keeping my son attached to the top half, I enjoy a few moments of clean freedom again. I will never take anything for granted again. I, a mother, can never take anything for granted again.

Children's Fears

The count is four. Four heads taken. Four heartbeats ended. Four. That is the count. The hits are eight. I have been hit eight times. Three drew blood. The other five were on my back. I usually protect my back as often as I can but it is difficult when you have a child suckling on your front. I waited hours before I finally let him eat. He will be quiet then. Just as I had planned, so far.

Now I hide in the shadows as five men chase me. My son is a good eater and has gained more then I had hoped he would. The extra few pounds have changed my balance. I don’t mind, he looks so happy against my body. Little hands gently holding on. It is strange what goes through your head while you are breastfeeding your child and men are trying to kill you… all I can think of is my training.

On the morning of my tenth birthday I was blindfolded and taken out to the wilderness. I was left with nothing more then a gentle kiss on my hand from my father, my master. The man who had trained me. He was god-like to me. Even as I remember him there is a shimmer that radiates in my memories. Almost intoxicating. A child could do no wrong to this immortal, but I was not a child. I was his successor. I was the sole survivor after brothers had fallen. I had six or seven brothers.

They, perhaps not as impenetrable as my master, were always above me. I could feel them. They had all died in battles. My brothers died fighting other men’s disputes. Their master’s fights. This is the Samurai path. The path begins as a straight line. There are no forks for true Samurai. Perhaps I am not a true Samurai as my brothers were.

I don’t remember much of them as they were taken hostage by my Father’s master, the Shogun, as young boys. They lived life as honored guests of the Shogun. This kept my father at bay. This was how men assured loyalty. This is what happened to me, although my being an honored guest meant my lap was open for the Shogun when he saw fit. He only saw fit when he had had too much to drink and the act lasted less then three breaths. I was thankful for that at least.

It is strange to think back seven years and realize how ill equipped I was then to deal with the wilderness after my father left me to find home. Alone and scared I hacked at anything that moved. How quickly I misunderstood the forest with it’s shaky trees and dark hiding holes. I feared the wind could carry my smell to a hungry animal. Something large and horrifying. Shadowed by the trees, it would hunt. Waiting ever so still to pounce on my back.

I imagined it would play a game with me. First the monster would let me know it was alive and well. A short snuff from it’s pinked nose, one would swear it could have been cute at one point with such a nose. Flash of wet white teeth, one would wonder how a monster keeps them so clean. Then he would step forward. Just a slight step, nothing too intimidating. Just enough so I could glimpse the strong front legs it would be beating me with. Such an innocent’s fear, mine no more.

Now I am in the shadows, safe in the shadows.

They found me. My son eats on. South east. One man, a head taller then me. He eyes me. Calls to his fellows. They are too far to help him now. Three quick steps and I am upon him. My son eats on. Left hand on scabbard, right hand on sword. Kneel to evade slash. A flash of my steel to the unguarded belly. Now looking just over his hips, no more threat of movement from above. I bow to the immortal trees.

Five. The count is five. My son eats on.

Escape

I had set a day. I had set a time. It was going to go exactly to plan. Then he was brought into existence. I hated him for it. I wanted to rip him up. I wanted to wash my insides clean of his attached heart. I hated him.

Being with child I did not have the strength I needed to escape. I became sick. I was tired. I started to become faint very easily. Soon my belly became swollen with his greedy flesh. I could feel him move around. I imagined him laughing at my unhappiness. There were nights I fell asleep with the thought of slicing my belly off. He had started growing because of a filthy act and so he was filthy.

Being a slave to ones master was not the filthy part, it was the fact my master was stupid enough not to use me to my full potential. Daughter of a Samurai was something he should have used to his advantage. After realizing he knew nothing of my talent I decided to use my bloodline given status to my own advantage, but of course, the beastchild came.

Nine months I sat waiting for him to leave. For the moment I could finally abandon the hungry beast inside of me. He who was eating my insides and taking my strength. He who had been brought to this world without love would see no love from me.

The first pain came while meditating. It started while I wished him gone from me. I spent hours fighting with him. Screaming for him to leave. He was the last tie keeping me to this jail cell. With him out I could run and be free. I needed no master.

With my last ounce of strength he finally exited. I had rid myself of him.

I looked at the trespasser. He was screaming. His arms flailing, looking for the food any mother would have given their child. He was looking for warmth. He was looking for his mother. The image of the greedy thief laughing at my pain and misfortune turned into this helpless animal. This small, scared, lonely person.

Who else better to understand his pain then me? Who better to understand why he cried then me? I, who only wanted compassion and love. I, who had been selfish enough to believe this crying beast had brought himself to this place. It hadn't been his choice, nor was it mine.

My arms pulled him close to me. No one would steal this little boy and make him do unthinkable bidding's. I would make sure of that.

And so, my planned escape had to change. I was taking this small innocent child with me. He would not stay in this place, as I wouldn't.