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Finding A New Path.
Clarrisa. I stood alone in the woods, gripping my bow tightly as I stared down my target. The cold winter air bit at my skin, but I didn’t care. I reached into my quiver and pulled out another arrow, nocking it with practiced ease. My eyes locked onto the small painted circle on the tree ahead. Taking a deep breath, I drew back the string, feeling the tension in my arms and shoulders. For a moment, everything else faded. The world went quiet, and all that mattered was the target. The bowstring twanged as I released the arrow, the sound slicing through the stillness. The arrow flew straight, embedding itself dead center in the target. Satisfaction flickered in my chest, but it was fleeting. No matter how many arrows I shot tonight, it wouldn’t erase the ache gnawing at my insides. I
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