I remember being awful

I don’t remember what I did but I remember I was awful

I don’t want to think about it but the reverend wants me to remember

My name is Briar but I can’t call myself that anymore. I think I got in trouble about it once. I named myself Bitter instead because I was. I was bitter because they abandoned me, the…the men in grey, I can’t remeber their faces anymore. They were powerful. They led an army. They were going to fight for us

I grew up in Huntsville. My father was a hunter. Every Christmas we’d feast on hogmeat and quail. I grew up strong. The strongest. They nicknamed me Esau back home. I was born to hunt

I was a hunter. One of the best. But I know I didn’t hunt critters. The prey was…I can’t think about it

The prey was clever. The prey knew how to hide. I was always stronger but I had to be watchful too. I had to take them alive or I wouldn’t get paid. I wish I could just kill them

Sometimes they’d worm they way in with the local critters. Sometimes people would protect them. Had to lure them out, burn them out

I was the best at it, and I was proud of it. They were monsters who needed to be killed or chained. But I don’t remember why. Did I ever know?

No, there was one monster. The one I couldn’t catch. The one who always laughed. The absolute terror. It broke people just to see if it could. I tracked him for months and only saw his back once

Wait, no, I saw it…twice?

No, once. I didn’t see him this year; I don’t remember who I saw in its place

My head…hurts so much.

I know this is new. I was happy being a hunter before. But I felt like this before. There…there was a war. They abandoned me after the war, the grey men. Broken and tricked and beaten

They lost and the Union said I couldn’t hunt anymore because…the prey was gone. But I could still see them, they were right there

So I strangled them. Better that than let them get away

And they declared open season on me, so I became Bitter. I was so angry, I thought about doing it again and again

But I don’t now. There’s nothing there though something was there

I don’t think I can get it back

I don’t think I should put it back there. Who I was wasn’t happy living in this era. His time had passed

But what am I besides a hunter?

It was my whole life. I can’t see past it

What if this is God’s intervention?

Maybe I needed to be something new

Maybe I needed to be better