Gold.
Such a heavy, heavy word.
Some people hear it and think of wealth. Others, a color. Someone else, perfection.
But for me, gold is my identity. Has been, ever since I took my first breath.
I remember my parents saying I shone with the warmth of light. I remember them calling me their little sun.
I wonder what they would think of me now—locked in a windowless room and surrounded by ice, stuck in a world that seems determined to keep me from rising.
As I pace in the room, I keep seeing the statue from the corner of my eye—the woman who’s now stuck in an agonized wince. Her mouth doesn’t need to emit any sound for me to hear her screaming.
Will that be me one day? Will the gold consume me, suffocate me, just as it did in my dream?
My eyes prickle, like the barbed edge of a leaf. I wonder how different things would’ve been, onlyif.
If my body had never glimmered with the shine of a little sun.
If gold-touch magic had never dripped from my hands.
If ribbons had never sprouted from my back.
If I’d never met Midas.
But all of those thingsdidhappen, and here I am. In the dark space of an ex-dressing room, now-cage room. My ribbons drag on the floor behind me with every step I take, and outside the door, guards are standing watch.
Bright side? I don’t fucking know.
My eyes fall to my bare palm, to the gold that’s caked to it like dried blood. It still drips, a spigot left to dribble. I hold the weight of wealth in my hands, and it’s so damn heavy to carry.
This power—this magic that the goddesses bestowed upon me, it has cost me everything. And apparently, it wasn’t enough that I was born gold to be gawked at, because then, when I turned fifteen, it started to stream from my fingers and turn me into a murderer, while ribbons sprouted from my back like a monster.
I wish there was a window so I could rage. Rage at the stars hiding behind the light of the sun.
Instead, I rage at the heavy locked door.
Storming over to it, my fists pummel the wood, making splotches of gold drip into the grains before it begins to spread.
“Let me out!” I yell, teeth bared and ready to bite.
He willnottrap me in here like an animal. I won’t let him do this to me. I will not spend the rest of my days waiting for scraps to be tossed my way.
My gold-touch magic, my ribbons, my own damnthoughts, I’ve tried to hide them all. Been ashamed of them. Been ashamed ofme, and he nurtured that shame, though I was too blind to see it.
I sat and I smiled, withering beneath the gild. Played pretty music as I stayed locked in my birdcage and accepted when I should have fought.
And Midas...
He gave me feathered kisses and spoke sweet words, and it isn’t enough. Who I’ve allowed myself to become isn’t enough.
Rip was right.
A veil has been lifted—a veil I put there, over my own eyes. Now it’s ripped away, and I can see everything more clearly.
I’ve made many choices in my life, and for the last decade, all of them have been for Midas. But like Lu said, it’s time to own my shit.
It’s time to start choosingme.
