“Why did you hurt me?” Said the young woman holding a child to her chest. _Clean The Wound._

“Why did you kill my daughter?” Asked the man dressed in rags. _Little Bird’s Little Eyes._

“Why did you kill my brother?” Pleaded the older girl. _Stars Of The Past._

“Why did you make him take me?” Asked the young girl. _Don’t Walk Home Alone._

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The names of all their stories came to me as they questioned me with tears in their eyes. Oh, what had I done to them? I wrote them as stories to match prompts, as pure fiction. I didn’t know that they could be real people, with real pain I put them in. If I had known they really experienced the words I wrote them for, I would have made them all happy stories. But that’s not writing, is it? Nothing we authors write is truly happy.

“I’m sorry.” I whispered. “I don’t know.”

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“Sorry wouldn’t bring them back.” Replied the _Stars Of The Past _and_ Little Bird’s Little Eyes _characters_. _

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“Sorry won’t change what he did to us.” Added the _Don’t Walk Home Alone _and _Clean the Wound _women.

“I- I had though you were all fiction.”

They all shook their heads. “Somewhere, there will always be one of us. Your words, try as you might, change nothing. The world is an ugly, ugly place, filled with ugly, ugly truths. So why do you still write us?”

I thought for a moment, but the answer came quick. It was always there. “I write you to try to comfort, to heal. At least that’s my intent.”

They cocked their heads to the side. “How can you heal and comfort though only words, only fiction? We are just pain on paper.”

“But you’re not the only ones. I want to be able to show others that they’re not alone, that there will always be someone, somewhere, that knows what it’s like. That’s… the only way I can help. Through words. I’m not good at physically helping or verbally. Words are the only way I can help.”

They nodded. “_Words are power, use them well.”_ Then they vanished.

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My poor characters….. if I really met them, they’d have a lot to say to me. This definitely wasn’t my best writing, but I was just trying to get a meaning down. Words are really a power that can make or break an entire person. To all the wonderful writers reading this, keep doing what you’re doing. You might just write for fun, but wether you know it or not, ever word has a purpose, a reason why it chose you to spin it into reality. As always, thanks for reading!!!❤️❤️❤️