Back to Stories
Written by:
Smoke. As I open my eyes it consumes my vision. A grey darkness consuming the world. The sound of weapons and shouting coming from outside fills my ears. Each sound ringing in my head. It all becomes distant and unclear as my mind falls away. My chest hurts as I try to breathe, each breath hurting more than the last. I try to force my mind to focus as it attempts to pull me unconscious again. My body aches as I try to move it. Each muscle making its self-known to me with every minute movement. A loud crash rings in my head. I try turn my head to look over at where the sound came from. My door is wide open, and my father's tall figure is illuminated from behind by the orange light of the flames. My eyes strain to focus as he makes his way to the bed where I lay. As he reaches the bed, I can see more clearly how dishevelled he is. His hair falls in long silver wisps around his face. His green eyes are clear and stare deep into mine. Without a word he lifts me from the bed. I let my body fall limp in his arms. My mind falls away as darkness consumes me.
The weapon falls from my hands with a crash as I collapse to my knees amidst the pools of blood. Three bodies lay lifeless before me. Crimson blood. Bright red against my pale skin. Panic begins to set in. The feeling of the weapon entering the body of the man (? race needed). The feeling of the blade piercing the skin. The feeling of the blood running down from the blade and onto my hand and arms. Blood. The singular word consuming my mind. The colour vivid filling my mind. I try to shake it off, to stand up and move away. The clash of weapons continues outside. The sound rings in my head as I move towards the door. Halfway to the door I trip and fall, hitting the floor with a thud. I turn to look at what I tripped on and freeze. I had tripped on my mother's outstretched arm. A scream wells in my throat but no noise emerged. Pushing myself as far from her as I can get. Into the corner by the door. I curl up into a ball. My hands covering my ears as I rock silently crying as I look at the bodies of my parents who died protecting me.
The glow of sunlight pulls me from the darkness. As I open my eyes a bright beam of sunlight streaming in through a gap, illuminating the inside of the tent. As I turn my head to the side, I can see rows upon rows of young children and women. Beside me is a young boy, slightly built with silvery hair, curled into a ball slowly rocking bad and forth. I roll onto my side to get a closer look at him. I wince as I try to sit up, as a pain lances through my side. The boy looks over at me his eyes, a startling bright blue with a deep gold rim, lock with mine. He quickly moves close to me, trying to help, but just as quickly as he approached, he retreated away. His eyes locked on my side, his whole body beginning to shake. I glance down and notice a growing red stain on my shirt. With a quick glance I find a light blanket and pull it up over my body. When I look back up at the boy he was staring at his hands. He had turned pale, as pale as the material of the tent, a sickly white colour. I attempt finish sitting up, grimacing as the pain in my side grows, as I come to a near vertical position my mind whirls and the world turns dark.
The flow of bright silver hair falling behind the girl beside me. She is falling. The thought struck me and before I could think again, I was lunging forward to catch her. My arms outstretched to catch her. The blanket covering her falls away as she hit my arms. The bright red against the white of the bandages and the pale grey of her skin. Panic begins to set in. Breathing becoming more difficult with intake. All my focus being consumed by the panic, the bright red covering the girl’s side. I can hear noise but can’t focus enough to figure out where or what it was. I feel some one pull me away from the girl but I struggles against it. Something in me is urging me to be close to this unknown girl. The thought of the girls bright green intelligent eyes pulls me from my panic enough to look around me. I can see someone leaning over the girl. She looks awful. The colour of her skin dull and her body twitching. A new panic rises in me. This girl is in danger. An instinct in me drives me forward towards this girl, pushing adults out of my way. Reaching my hand out I lay it again her skin, where the bandages had been removed. Where my hand connected with her skin a series of flowers begin to blossom. The skin beneath my hand begins to stitch itself together again. As I pull my hand away my mind clouds and the world spins. With one last glance at the girl the world turns black.