Anger is such a powerful emotion. It fuels our feelings and actions, making us do things that we never imagined. It grows beyond the bounds. It festers and can be all encompassing. Everyone experiences it. Everyone has reveled in the power it can bring. Or the fear and the weakness it shows to those on the hunt. It is so easily used against those that cannot control its fury and, in the end, becomes their greatest doom. It became mine.

As I stand on a hotel balcony, the world is blanketed in the mystery of the black night sky. The brightness of the thousands of stars I see shimmering bring to heart feelings of such great sorrow. Each of those beautiful spheres are the blazes of the fires of the many loves I had during my long life and what became of them. Some of the loves came by choice while others I was consumed with an undeniable hunger to have. They remind me of the regret and love I am filled with, for they are the souls of the children that I will never meet.

But alas my sorrow is bittersweet for on this joyous day my long life will finally be at its end. For ten centuries I have been enslaved to a curse of ill will that has robbed me of every future I thought I would have. I will never know the lives that I have helped to bring into the world or know the joy of being genuinely happy.

My anger has taken everything from me just as that witch intended on that fretful day so long ago. I have made my peace with her decision because now that I have reached the end and have experienced the pain I gave her once, one thousand times, I am more than ready to end my fate. On this day I am ready to die.

As I take one long last look out at the shimmering sky of my children, I am filled with hope that they will know a better future than that of their mother. I hope that they will cherish the love they are given and control the anger of their mortal side. I hope that they will embrace the wild nature of their other half and will know the peace I was cursed to never have. I hope my children get to live a life they choose and that maybe someday they will hear the legend of their mother.

I walk through the rented room that stood so high in the sky and gave me a spectacular view of my children to make my way to the exit out in the hall. I cherish the pictures on the walls of the hotel that symbolized the structures and the city of the precious place that I once called home. The peacefulness of the elevator music creates a lull in my mind from the hunger of peace I have felt growing in this last year. I sway to its melancholy beat of the piano as it begins to mellow and end just as my life would soon.

There are some in this world that would consider my curse a true blessing. In one thousand years I have held onto the beauty of my eighteen-year-old self. I have never been sick or seriously injured. I have experienced love and life longer than that of any other on this earth. I have seen as many corners of the earth as I could and tried the world’s cuisines. I watched humans evolve and grow beyond anything that I had ever seen in my youth. I have always known my end date and knew how much time I would have on this earth. Yet, from my experiences this life was still a curse and never a gift because I have forever been denied what I wanted more than anything. To be a mother and to be loved as I loved.

As the doors open, I was forced to take a deep breath. Being on the ground I could feel the strong pull to my resting place more urgently. My feet begin to make the long journey of their own accord as if they too can make it their all on their own as we exited the lobby.

Upon the outside I could feel the kiss of the north wind on my cheek. The silkiness of a kimono like my father gave me so long ago rubs against my flesh. It was almost like receiving the last blessing from a longtime friend even though I know he has long since passed. With the air scented sweet I looked into the distance and saw the same blossoms that spanned the fabric. The only symbol of love that has lasted me in life came with a reminder of why I am here. I could feel the wild side of my nature slither around in my chest and a sense of eagerness of what awaited. We were making the journey to where it all began. It knew that this thousand-year journey was finally at its end.

As I walk through the dead night of the city all appears still. There is not a single soul about as I walk the streets. I hear no sounds of animals in the distance and smell nothing but the nights cool air. Upon a swift breeze in this spring season of March I get a brief taste of the water from the paddy fields where I worked with my father long ago.

On the horizon I could see the lights of the city in which I came to be. Off in the distance I see the caves in which I was birthed, the same caves where my first child was conceived. A cave that reminds me of the love that I once had and how in my anger I ended it. As I walk the dirt road leading to the gates of my village that have grown so much since my time, I am given the memories of my youth in the field which once adorned the road. I have not been able to come home for a thousand years and the weight in my chest sags with relief at finally being allowed to return. I can still smell the scent of the Japanese cherry blossoms that grow in the distance. It is their season after all. They calm me.

The memory of the first flower I received from those trees plays in my mind. It was given to me by the young man that I met at the cherry blossoms celebration. I like to believe that I knew that the day he gave me my first flower that he would come to mean so much more to me than a young man I had simply met. He would end up becoming everything to me which would be taken away sooner than the world had the right. Along with this memory also comes immense pain. Pain not only from the great losses that I endured but pain of the betrayal that he caused me too.

As the memories flash behind my eyes, I pick up my pace ready to end my final journey so that finally I may be allowed to let go of my anger and rest in peace. That feeling I have become accustomed too over the centuries of my life swirls in my chest as I approach the gates of my childhood home. For once my curse and I reach an agreement in mind, body, and soul. The agreement to rest for all eternity becomes a common goal for human and Drakaina. Even though I have never been able to communicate with my inner self I have grown to know her feelings as they usually overpower my own. We have both longed for this return to where it all began. As we handled our final task, we have both felt the constant pull to come home, to die where it all began. At this final hour, the pull is at its strongest when we face toward the center of our village. As we get closer to where this inner pull wants us to go, I see the face of my past on a statue in the middle of the village square. Deep inside I know that this is the witch having her final laugh at my agony. As I brace a hand on the leg of the statue, I look down from his face that brings tears to my eyes to the inscription that reads “a person may have peace when fate decides it has been earned through pain and forgiveness.” The source may say anonymous, but we know who that phrase is for. So, I close my eyes to see the story I have never been able to forget to find who it is I must forgive from my own beginning………