A few years ago I found out my middle name was spelled without an ‘a’ making my full name Jessica Crolyn, instead of Jessica Carolyn Forte.

I often envision who I think Crolyn is. She is every part of who I am. Off in imaginative lands amongst dragons and fighting thieves, sailing ships in the night. She reveals herself in little ways. She is bold and true, uniquely her own, born from the beginning feeling, nothing makes sense. She is who this world cannot handle accept.

It is said

She speaks in metaphors and poems. Carries the flame of mens fury in her hair, holds the night sky on her face and the seas depths in her eyes, her love as profound as the scarlet on her lips.

At the point in the story she made her grand escape, she is on a runaway train in the dead of night. Sitting in the dark hoping she out witted the hunters. There is something eerie about those first few seconds of hope, it never truly seeps into us. It is sitting in the luggage compartment putting your knees to your chest, tightening your arms around yourself realizing it’s only a matter of time.

“Only a fool would stay,” she says as she knows, they want blood and she wants freedom.

They believe her hair is the root of treason. That she’s keeping away the night sky withholding the warmth of the day. The seas cannot be tamed or reached, making embarking and going beyond, and going to new bounds, unattainable. Believing her passion silences the world. The only way to grow louder, is to take her pieces apart and make them your own. A fine hunt, and a celebration when all is over, on how all is conquered and good is restored.

The train rattles on, just once, she thinks how that feeling of hope would have been nice.

The echoes of the hunters heard, she can hear the train car doors opening in the distance. She thinks about the fall, she thinks about how dark it is, how bloody her knees will be when she lands, how horribly terrifying it is out there in the unknown.

But Crolyn is one with mysticism . I know she grieves for the ones who misunderstand, the ones who feast on her demise. I can’t stop her from peeking her way through. She is the one who this world cannot accept, forever in the unknown.