The Autumn-Haired Girl

The Autumn-Haired Girl was sinking. The water was deep, and only a speck of light would reach her from above. Any hope of a helping hand was long gone.

She reminisced about her past. The others thought her strange and kept their distance. She, however, had something no one else had—sincerity.

They hated her for who she was. Perhaps they knew that if they too were sincere, they would be hated in turn as well. So they protected themselves. A façade.

The Autumn-Haired Girl would not give up. She yearned for their attention, their affection. For every refusal, for every slap of the hand, she would move on to the next one.

Only one of them, the Oak-Haired Girl, looked her in the eyes. In them, she saw freedom. Yet, by yearning for that freedom, she was cast aside. Chained even more tightly for taking one step closer to liberty.

It was the Fire-Haired Girl who cast her aside. She was stronger, freer. She would chain others, while she herself was chained only by the chains she held. It would never be enough. She desired more and more chains. It was what set her free.

And so, she went for the Autumn-Haired Girl. An outcast. She was easy to overpower, to break, to use. And when she was satisfied, she moved on to chain another.

The Autumn-Haired girl was now truly alone, cast aside even by the image of whom she could have been.

Time passed. Solitude grew. Whispers gathered. Until, one day, she grew stronger. Resolute.

If her own kind would refuse her, then perhaps she had to seek her freedom elsewhere. And so, she ventured deep into the unknown—dangerous places she was once warned about.

There, she met the Three-Pronged Beast.

The First Head would see her. It gave her the attention she sought for so long. Its gaze was piercing, uncomfortably so. It sometimes felt like it could see far too much.

The Second Head would hear her. It gave her the chance to open up, to finally be herself. But it lingered on her words, and it felt more and more that it would twist them into the story it wanted to hear.

The Third Head would feel her. No longer a slap of the hand, but a gentle touch of affection. It made her feel safe, protected, even if it almost felt suffocating.

Even so, it was all she ever wanted. For but a brief moment, the Autumn-Haired Girl was finally happy.

But it was not enough.

The Beast wanted to see more. To hear more. To feel more. And it reached inside, more so than the Girl had wanted to reveal. Deeper and deeper inside, until it ravaged her from within.

The Beast left her and, in its place, solitude returned. It relentlessly filled the empty shell that the she had now become.

She opened her eyes. The speck of light could no longer be seen. Enveloped in darkness, the Autumn-Haired Girl let out a sigh of relief.

She had finally found freedom.