text: [Themes: grimdark fantasy, drama, fantasy, female protagonist]
  
  Life has never been easy for you. You were separated from your mother when you were three years old. Although you never heard the full story, you've heard enough over the years from the gossips of Endlemire to piece together the gist of it. Father banished your mother from the household with accusations that she didn't act like a proper wife, or even a proper woman. You never saw her again. In fact, the only memory you have left of her is a vision of a beautiful, but careworn face framed in copper colored hair, the same hair that you have.
  
  In light of the scandal, Father raised you with strict severity, even compared to the other children of your conservative village. The older you got, the more people threw it in your face that your mother was so scandalous. Any mistake you made was attributed to your mother's flaws. Perhaps if you looked less like her, they might have forgiven you in time. Instead your features are soft and fair, rather than dark and stern like Father's. You have heard it over and over again how much you look like your mother. The villagers sometimes whisper that red hair is the sign of a tainted soul, and green eyes reveal a dangerous heart. They are rare enough colors among the villagers, but aren't entirely unheard of. But no one harassed the others for these traits. Then again, you didn't recall anyone else having both traits at the same time.
  
  At first you tried to stand up for yourself, but this seemed to turn people against you even further; someone with your shameful lineage should show more humility. You were told you should be grateful to even be allowed to stay within Endlemire's boundaries. Forget the fact that when the trouble happened, you were nothing but an innocent child. Forget the fact that you were never told what shameful sin, or horrible crime, your mother committed. Living under the shadow of your mother's scandal hasn't done you any favors.
  
  How do you feel about this?
  
  [Author's Note: Your mother was cast aside by your father for certain 'unnatural' practices. Raised by your overly strict father, you always felt as though you didn't belong in the village, and the way the other villagers treated you didn't help. So, what are you going to do about it? ~December Contest prompt #34: The protagonist is the village whore. But she's also a witch!~ (This story sort of ran away with itself and I ran out of time, so I hope there's enough 'whore' and 'witch' in it to qualify.)]
  
  > Angry: it's time you did something about it.
  Anger is completely natural; unfortunately for you, the people of Endlemire don't appreciate your right to express yourself. When protesting your innocence doesn't get you very far, you up the scale of your misbehavior. It starts with simply talking back to your elders, and then goes on to calling people out on their behavior. While you are actually speaking the truth, you ignore any sense of tact or delicacy, partly because you're just a child, but mostly because you're getting angrier by the day. Eventually this reaches a breaking point.
  
  You are playing with a handful of children in the market square, their parents are huddled in a small group, talking to each other about the price of eggs and other such village matters. At the moment they don't seem to notice that their children are breathing the same air as you, let alone playing with you. You are actually having fun for the first time in ages when a little boy calls out to his mother in excitement. When she instinctively turns her head to respond, she sees her two precious children playing with you.
  
  Angry, she rushes into the group of children and grasps each of her children by the arm, pulling them away from their play despite their reluctance. She hands them over to the other parents and storms back to confront you. Glowering down at you from her adult height, she puts her hands on her hips.
  
  "How dare you play with my darlings, you filthy child!" she demands, her words causing you to flinch.
  
  "I wasn't doing anything wrong," you protest, trying to fight back the tears. The afternoon had been so lovely, and she is ruining it.
  
  "Nonsense. Playing with you is only going to hurt them."
  
  "I wasn't even touching them."
  
  "Impertinence! How dare you be impertinent to me!" In her anger at your rudeness, though you're not sure what you did wrong, she reaches to grab your arm, which you evade. Unfortunately for you this only gets her even more incensed. This time she goes for your ear, and you fail to get out of her grasp. It hurts! You cry out and beg to be released, but she ignores your cries. That is why you jerk your head to the side and bite her arm.
  
  She lets go of you.
  
  Not only does she release you, but she shoves you down on the ground and calls for aid. Soon a mob of adults surround you and drag you home. You're locked in the cellar while they decide your fate. You hear the harsh sounds of their voices going back and forth, though you cannot make out any of the words. You doubt anything good is being said. Father sounds angrier than you have ever heard him before, and your stomach begins to sink.
  
  You spend the next few days in almost complete solitude, locked in your room. Your room never had a lock on it before, so you're guessing Father had it put there during the time you were in the cellar. You only see him when he gives you your meals for the day: porridge for breakfast, two pieces of plain bread for lunch, and a paltry helping of vegetables and meat for supper. On the fourth day you are taken away by a stranger wearing all black; Father isn't even there to see you off as you're bundled into a very austere looking carriage.
  
  "Where are we going?" you ask. You've never been outside of Endlemire before.
  
  "Silence, child! I am not here to answer your questions." He then promptly ignores you, other than to glare at you any time you try to speak up. You spend a long trip staring at the man and wondering where you are going.
  
  Finally, the carriage stops at an imposing stone building surrounded by stone walls. Unlike many such buildings, it is completely functional without a hint of adornment. At first you are relieved to be at your destination, but this feeling doesn't last long. If you thought Father was strict, he was nothing compared to the people here. Disobedience is met with whippings and meals are withheld when the whippings fail to bring you to contrition. At least Father allowed you some small time to yourself, but now you are always surrounded by other children who had been as rebellious as you and the adults who are tasked with taming them. You, and these other children, are called 'The Compromised' by the adults, who in turn demand to be called 'The Keepers.'
  
  You spend most of your first days angry. During the next few weeks you learn to fear your own anger, and fall into sadness. But even this is considered misbehavior. Ingratitude is a sin, or so The Keepers tell you. Everything seems to be a sin other than strict obedience, humility, and selflessness. You and the other 'compromised' children find your lot in life quite difficult.
  
  This new life leaves you:
  
  > Broken
  This is no way to live, and you fight it with all that you have. Unfortunately, there are many Keepers and only one of you. The other children are too afraid to aid you, and a few of them even tattle on you to the adults. You find yourself being increasingly cut off from everyone and everything, and your young heart can't take this anymore. Months go by and you become a pale shadow of yourself. When winter approaches, you become ill. The poor meals and whippings make recovery next to impossible, and you find that you don't even have the energy to care. One evening you slip into a nightmare filled fever.
  
  You never wake up again.
  
  Your life has come to a close; perhaps it was your choices that brought you here, and perhaps it was just cruel fate.