Stone Circle My Dad Considered Me a Cross He Had to Bear

"My little stream,"

The words washed over her with the salt of memories that threatened to rip open her scars, but she refused to let them sink in. She had come so far since then, since she first left the mountain tops she once referred to as home. 

"Why don't you look at me?"

His words burned. How could she meet his gaze? She had never once been kind to him, insisting that one bad deed was enough to paint him as an outcast who cursed her blood. Yet the only response she had received after finally meeting him was regret and a call for forgiveness. Ira denied him back then, even declared that he would never be her father and oh how she bit those words now.

She gave in, head turning in the direction of the mountain, yet her eyes still remained just out of sight. How am I to face what I have once soiled?