Screams. All I hear are terrible, shrill screams as I round corner after corner, eyes trained ahead. Every time I turn I prepare my self for the worst; a group of soldiers ready to kill me, a hallway strewn with the dead.
My heart makes up for my soundless feet with thumps so loud I'm afraid somebody else will hear it. As my lungs threaten to burst I focus on my aching legs, enjoying the burn.
As I turn the next corner I come to a screeching stop as I look down the hallway in front of me. Lifeless bodies litter the marble floor. Random weapons are scattered among the fallen. Pitchforks, spears, the occasional sword indicate that these people were rebels. My eyes burn with tears and I collapse to the ground. You knew this was going to happen, Rose. Don't pretend you didn't know. I shake my head trying to clear it. If I don't finish what I've started all these deaths will be for nothing. As I trudge down the hallway, my feet now heavy, I pass by a little girl. Her face is pale and cold to the touch. An arrow protrudes from her chest and I gag at the sight of the dried blood covering her pink shirt. I bend down to pick her up, cradling her in my arms. I wipe the curly blonde hair from her face and decide she's only about 6 years old. She hasn't quite lost her baby fat and her face is completely free of blemishes. Her brown eyes are still open, staring as if she's in a trance and will wake up any second. I push her eyelids closed to let her rest peacefully. A steady stream of tears runs down my face as I lower the girl back to the floor.
I wipe my cheeks with my shirt, the scratchy fabric leaving my skin raw. I am determined to go on, and keep fighting for the girl. She didn't have to die. I think to myself. My stomach churns just thinking about how long she still had to live, and how quickly it was taken from her. She could've lived to see the outcome of this war.
I push away the troubling thought as I continue running down the hall. I reach the spiral staircase, catching a flash of purple running towards me. I feel the pain before I know what has happened and I'm knocked to the ground. With another hit to the head everything stops. Even the screams.
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Remembering Rose (#Wattys2016)
AdventureRoses are beautiful, delicate flowers that need to be pruned. True to her name, as Rose grows up, she is kept under control. Told only what people want her to know, Rose is as innocent as the flower first appears. When Rose is finally told the tru...
