“Ok, tell me, what do you do when a guard is chasing you down the street?” Winn, her mother’s instructor asked. His muscled arms were crossed over his chest and his hair blended in with the darkness of the hut.
“Run like your life depends on it! Zig-zag through the streets, make a lot of noi--”
“Wrong.” He laughed. “That is the one thing you don’t do because everyone will have their eyes on you. It’s why your mother has this nasty cut on her lips. She didn’t listen to me.”
Her mother nudged his shoulder with a small smile. “At least I have an imposing scar.”
“It will heal in less than a month, Cozbi. Such a shame though, scars often add a certain allure to pretty faces.”
She chuckled. “Continue with her. I’ll go get Zara.”
Freyja smiled as her friend’s name was mentioned.
“Great! I’ll ask my question again and this time think, Freyja. What do you do if a guard is chasing you down the street?”
“Fight the guard!” Zara exclaimed, skipping into the hut. She removed her cloak and sat beside Freyja. Her black hair, like her father’s, blended into the darkness while her eyes shone in the dark.
“Again, wrong Zee. You are barely eight. Who will you fight?” He sighed. “Freyja?”
“Uh...Ok. Run really fast and take random turns to distract him. Then, hide...Somewhere.”
“Ok, that’s better than your last answer. What about if he catches you?”
“Scream as loud as you can!” The girls yelled.
“What else?” he laughed.
“Struggle as much,” Freyja responded, adjusting the mask on her face.
“Bite him just like Mrs. Poni’s dog bit you, dad.”
Cozbi’s laugh floated into the hut.
"How long will you guys keep making fun of me for that?" He dragged a hand over his face before sighing light-heartedly. "And, if you’re stuck in a room?”
“Smash the windows!” Zara answered.
“If there are no windows?”
Freyja closed her eyes and imagined a room with no window.
“If there is no window and the door is locked, make them open the door.”
“Interesting and how would —”
“It’s getting pretty dark, Winn. Freyja and I need to get going. She has school tomorrow.”
Freyja hugged her friend and waved at Winn. “Bye! See you next week.”
Since Freyja’s childhood, she had been trained to react logically in any situation. She learned how to think in danger. She knew to rely and logic and on observations in the middle of a fight or an argument. Yet, she headed to none of her training. Her heart squeezed at the thought of what Winn would think of her if he was still alive. She was a disgrace to him. To her mom.
Two guards pushed her into the cell and clasped the chain around her ankles. She winced as the rusty material made contact with her bloody ankle. Before she could sit down, she saw a flash of blonde hair and felt arms around her waist.
“Freyja?” Azalea cried. “Freyja, I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault. Forgive me.”
As stiff as a board, Freyja nodded.
YOU ARE READING
Poisoned Lips
Fantasy•Her lips are death itself• ____________________ Freyja, cursed with lips that bring upon death, spent most of her life away from the knowledge of society in fear of getting captured or worse - killing people. But after a painful incident, she disco...
