Dirii joined the army the day she was old enough, they didn't like her, but she worked hard and trained.
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Dirii joined the army the day she was old enough, they didn't like her, but she worked hard and trained.
Daily writing challenge, Distrubance
The disturbance started with a broken window. The sharp crack echoed through the dormitory, silencing every conversation at once. Children jumped. A few gasped. Glass scattered across the floor in glittering fragments. Nobody saw who did it. Nobody needed to. Every head turned toward Dirii. The little half-breed froze where she sat. Around her, children shifted away instinctively, as though simply being near her might somehow make them guilty as well. A boy pointed. "It was her." Dirii stared at him. She opened her mouth, closed it, then tried again. "I didn't." The words sounded small. Nobody answered. The silence hurt more than being called a liar. Moments later one of the matrons arrived, drawn by the noise. Her eyes swept across the room, taking in the broken glass, the frightened children, and finally Dirii. Always Dirii. "Come with me." The little girl lowered her head and obeyed. She didn't ask why. She already knew.The office smelled of old books and candle wax. Dirii stood quietly while the matron spoke. The lecture was familiar. Responsibility. Trust. Behavior. The importance of making good choices. Dirii stared at the floorboards and listened. Not because she agreed. Because arguing never changed anything. The matron never actually accused her outright, yet somehow Dirii always left feeling guilty. When the conversation finally ended, she was dismissed with a gentle warning and a tired smile. No apology. No acknowledgment that she might be innocent. Just another reminder that people expected better from her because they expected the worst.Outside, rain had begun to fall. The storm settled over Stormwind as evening approached. Raindrops crawled down the orphanage windows while the other children gathered together near the fireplace. They played games, shared stories, and laughed at things Dirii couldn't hear from where she sat. Her usual spot was against the far wall. Far enough away that nobody complained. Far enough away that nobody had to be uncomfortable. Dirii pulled her knees against her chest and watched. Friendship looked so effortless for everyone else. The way children leaned against one another. The way they shared blankets. The way they laughed without worrying whether they were welcome. It seemed as natural as breathing. A little girl noticed Dirii looking and immediately scooted closer to her friends. Farther from Dirii. The familiar ache returned. Not anger. Something sadder. Something emptier. For just a moment, an ugly thought crept into her mind. Maybe they're right. Maybe there really was something wrong with her. Maybe she was exactly what they whispered about when they thought she couldn't hear. Monster. Demon. Half-breed. Disturbance. The words settled heavily inside her chest. Heavy enough that she almost believed them.
Almost.
Movement near the fireplace caught her attention. A small bird had somehow found its way indoors. It was soaked from the rain, trembling violently. One wing hung at an awkward angle. Nobody else noticed it. Nobody else looked. The other children were too busy. The matrons were occupied. The bird was alone. Dirii quietly rose from her corner and crossed the room. The tiny creature panicked when she approached, attempting to flutter away. It only succeeded in tumbling onto the floor. Carefully, she knelt beside it. "It's okay," she whispered. Her hands closed around the little bird with extraordinary gentleness. As though it were something precious. As though it mattered. The way she wished someone would hold her.The rest of the evening passed in quiet work. She found a small wooden box, lined it with scraps of cloth, brought water, crumbs, and warmth. Nobody asked her to do any of it. Nobody thanked her. Most people didn't even notice. That was fine. The bird needed help. That was reason enough.Late that night, the orphanage finally fell silent. Rain tapped softly against the windows. Moonlight slipped through the cracks in the curtains. Dirii lay awake in bed, staring into the darkness. The little box rested beside her. Inside, the bird slept peacefully. Safe. Warm. Alive. The sight should have made her happy. Instead it made her think. The world had given her every reason to become cruel. Every reason to become bitter. Every reason to stop caring. Sometimes it would be so easy. To stop trying. To stop smiling. To stop helping people who would never help her back. To become exactly what everyone already believed she was. A monster. A disturbance. A problem. The children expected it. The matrons expected it. Perhaps the entire city expected it. They watched her constantly, waiting for the day she finally proved them right. Dirii rolled onto her side and slipped a finger through the opening of the box. The tiny bird stirred, then nestled against her hand, trusting her completely. The little girl felt something inside her chest loosen. Not much. Just enough. A small smile appeared. Sad. Tired. But real."No," she whispered.Tomorrow people would still fear her. Tomorrow they would still avoid her. Tomorrow someone would probably blame her for something she hadn't done. The world would remain unfair. Cruel. Lonely. But that didn't mean she had to be. They could keep waiting for a monster. Dirii would disappoint them. Again. And again. And again. The city might never love her. The orphanage might never understand her. But she refused to become the thing they feared. And in the quiet darkness of a lonely room, beside a broken little bird that trusted her when nobody else would, that stubborn refusal became the first truly important thing she ever owned.
(@daily-writing-challenge)
Daily writing Challenge, Gloom
Dirii learns very young that being good does not make people love you.The matrons say it often enough."Be polite, Dirii.""Sit still, Dirii.""Don't crowd the other children, Dirii.""They need space."The other children always need space.Dirii doesn't understand why.She isn't mean.She shares her food when she has extra. She helps scrub floors. She carries water buckets that are almost too heavy for her. She even lets the younger children pull on her tail because it makes them laugh.But when games begin in the courtyard, nobody picks her.When stories are read before bed, nobody sits beside her.When nightmares wake the smaller children, they crawl into the matrons' laps.Never her. Never.The orphanage sits near one of Stormwind's poorer districts. The building is old. Drafts creep through cracked boards. Rain taps endlessly against the windows.Dirii hates rainy nights.Rainy nights make everyone want comfort.And comfort is the thing she wants most.She's eight years old when she first notices it.A little human girl named Clara falls and skins her knee.The matron immediately scoops her up."There, there."The woman strokes Clara's hair.Holds her close.Whispers softly until the crying stops.Dirii watches from across the room.The ache arrives so suddenly it nearly hurts.Not jealousy.Something worse.Wanting.She wants someone to hold her like that.Just once.Just once would be enough.That night she cannot sleep.Eventually she slips from her bed and pads quietly through the dark hallway.The matron's office glows faintly beneath the door.Dirii stands there for several minutes.Working up courage.Finally she knocks.The woman opens the door."Dirii? What's wrong?"The little half-breed stares at the floor.Her hooves scrape nervously against the wood."I..."The words feel stupid.Embarrassing.But she says them anyway."Can I have a hug?"Silence.A long silence.The matron's expression changes.Not cruel.Not angry.Worried.That somehow hurts more."Oh, sweetheart..."She kneels.But she doesn't reach for Dirii.Doesn't touch her.Instead she keeps both hands folded neatly in her lap."As we've discussed before, physical contact can make some of the children uncomfortable."Dirii feels her stomach sink."I'll be careful.""I know.""I won't squeeze.""I know.""I just..."The words crack.The woman sighs.A tired sound.A defeated sound."Dirii, dear, some of the children are frightened.""Of me?"The matron hesitates.Which is answer enough."They don't understand what you are. Dirii knows what she is.At least partially.Half draenei.Half tauren.Neither.Both.Wrong.The children tell her all the time.Goat-cow.Mutt.Demon.Monster.The matron always scolds them.But never quite disagrees."They think I might hurt them."The woman doesn't answer.Dirii laughs.A tiny laugh.The sort children make when they're trying very hard not to cry."I'm not strong enough to hurt anybody."The matron looks away.Because unfortunately, Dirii is.Even at eight.Even skinny.Even hungry.She is bigger than most children.Stronger too.People notice.They always notice.The woman finally offers a smile."You should get some sleep."Dirii nods.The conversation is over.No hug comes.No hand on her shoulder.Nothing.She walks back to her bed alone.The hallway feels colder than before.That night she curls around her own tail.Pretending.Pretending it is someone's arm.Pretending someone cares enough to hold her.Pretending she belongs somewhere.Years later she will forget many things about the orphanage.The names of some children.The shape of the rooms.The meals.The seasons.But she never forgets that night.Because it teaches her something important.
Something terrible.
The people of Stormwind did not hate her.Hatred would have been easier.Hatred at least required seeing her.No.What they felt was fear.And fear built walls.Walls no amount of good behavior could climb.So little Dirii stopped asking for hugs.Stopped asking to play.Stopped asking to sit with the others.Stopped asking for almost everything.She learned to smile anyway.Learned to be helpful.Learned to survive.But deep inside, beneath the cheerful grin she would one day show the world, a lonely little orphan remained curled up in a cold bed.Still wondering what was so wrong with her that nobody had wanted to hold her.
(@daily-writing-challenge)
DAILY WRITING CHALLENGE 2026 IS BACK!
YOU DO NOT HAVE TO USE THE ACTUAL WORD FOR THIS CHALLENGE, YOU MAY SIMPLY BASE YOUR STORY AROUND ONE OF THESE IDEAS!
Choose one or both words/ideas and write a story, drabble, poem, or anything else once a day, every day, for a week!
Tag @daily-writing-challenge so we can reblog your stories.
Write the number day/challenge somewhere on your story.
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Tags that will be used: #Junedwc2026, #JunedayX2026 (X=whatever number day you’re writing for), #yourtumblrurl
There will be no optional challenges for the weekly DWC’s, but please feel free to make up some of your own challenges!
The next writing challenge will be in AUGUST 2026 and last one week!
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