Who: Amara; OT NPC characters in Brazil When: Ten years ago Where: Brazil jungle What: Amara watches her mother die...(Secret Origins) Rating: Not high
The blond trembled, clasping the sweat soaked hand as tears slipped silently down her cheeks, blue eyes rimmed with red from days of crying...from months of watching pain and suffering. What was she to do? Nothing, her father said...but there had to be something. Anything to rescue her mother from the clutches of such an illness that left her vulnerable and weak, clinging to life through her daughter's fingers. "Mama, you can't go..." she said softly, voice cracking and she gripped tighter to the hand, laying the clammy fingers upon her cheek and holding them there. She couldn't remember a time when her mother wasn't sick or hurt. Papa said she was just fragile and thus all the more reason she was so precious. It made Amara wonder if she was just as precious or if you had to be dying to gain such a title. At a young age, she found out that mama would always be her father's favorite and that she was simply the replacement...the placeholder until her beautiful mother was well enough to take her place by his side. It didn't matter that she looked like her mother or that she was his flesh and blood...she would always be in the background.
"Mama, don't go to sleep...wake up...you have to stay awake..." She watched the blue eyes so much like her own close and she let out a small cry, the hand grew limp in her own and she found her breath trapped within her lungs. The world was spinning, the tide of agony washing over her and she squeezed that hand and begged of their gods above to bring her mama back...they needed her. But she never woke up and the fiery girl was taken aside, left in a riot of confusion as she was shipped off to the jungle weeks later...to a tribe where she was forced to grow up too fast and train until her muscles were sore. The only promising thought was that she didn't think...