Chapter 9

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knowing what was the truth. It was a risk she was going to take, she walked up alongside the hill and back up into the woods. Every time she took a step the pain from running and falling to her stomach and on her back hurt so much, it was like as if needles were piercing her body in every direction. Rosabel tried to grab her cloak her mother gave her but realized it was not there, she looked around and behind her but then thought that the cloak must have gotten caught in the trees. Rosabel across her arms hugging herself for warmth as she was stumbling back to the castle she looked up and to her astonishment, the place she called home was no longer there it was destroyed overnight, all was left was rubble and standing walls that remained. Rosabel reached the castle gates, she saw the town that use to be filled with joy and laughter but now dead and silence, the heavy rise of smoke filled the air making it hard to see and make out objects as she pushed through. Coughing from the burning smell she covered her mouth, making her way past the rubble. Rosabel finally reached what was left of her home, tears rolled down her cheeks and she hung her head low. Everything she once had was gone, her family, home, the people who took care of her and her best friend. She cried begging this was only a nightmare and she wakes up laying in bed warm underneath the covers and her father sitting next to the bed with her mother. She wiped away her tears with her sleeve rubbing the dirt off her face, just a distance away from her was the family crest and next to it was a red rose standing there untouched. Quickly she got to her feet and walked right up to the flower bending down looking closely at the red rose. Rosabel reached her hand out to touch the pettall, but it fell to the ground glowing bright red, the rose began to spin and the petals formed a circle around her. Rosabel didn't know what to do she couldn't move her legs or break free, it was if she was glued down to the ground.

Scared and afraid she could only stay still. The rose spun and bursted into thousands of petals and lay right before Rosabel was a book, the pages began to turn and the air around her 

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