Sketch- A ghost story on a "common" ghost

Desert sand

Sketch-A ghost story of a "common" ghost
Desert sand

By Inkygalaxycat

Step step, she kept walking through the hot sand. Her journey to escape had lead her this far.
Stumble! She fell onto the burning sand with a yelp, thankful that she was completely covered, save her hands which was touching the burning sand.
Panting she stood up.
Her clothing, brown boots tied up by string, the disgusting pants she was made to wear as a dancer, a long dress with long baggy sleeves with a split down the side, torn from when she was running, a hooded shall to hide her shortly cut hair, it was bad to show hair, bad, bad, bad, bad! Lastly a bandana to protect her from the sand being blown everywhere.
Step step, she paused looking at a green plant covered by thorns. She had been told they held water by a magic lady. A fortune teller.
Water... she needed water!
She rushed towards it and painfully broke a part of the plant off with a yelp.
The thorns had jabbed her skin on her hand piercing them, and making them bleed.
Inngoring the pain she broke off the thorns.
Bit by bit the plant piece lost the thorns and she raised one of her hands to her mouth and pulled the bandana down. She then raised the plant so her mouth and drank what little water she could get.
After drinking what she could get she bit the plant piece she was holding, eating it.
Once she had finished she pulled up her bandana over her mouth and nose and continued walking. It wasn't long before the sky darkened and temperatures dropped. Winds picking up and blowing more sand didn't help ether.
But she kept walking, she needed to get as far away as possible for her.
They had horses, she didn't. The more sand she got between them the better.
Would they even come after a run away dancer? She didn't know. She just had to keep moving.
It was well into the night before she felt tired from all the walking. She had lots of stamina. All the dancers did, it was part of their training wether they liked it or not.
Her eye lids kept drooping in her battle to stay awake and walk.
The sooner she slept the sooner she could keep moving and she would have more energy, her voice of reason said to her.
Sighing to her self she sat on the now cold ground and listened to the voice of the reason.
She then curled up on her side and fell asleep in the cold desert.
She awoke to the sun rising in the desert, she had to keep moving...
She stood up slowly, sand falling off her form as she rose. She was thankful that she had her bandana.
Step step... she had lost track of how long she had been walking across the sand. All she knew it had been many days. At least ten sandstorms. And two water pools.
Sighing she found another green thorny plant and broke some off.
She began to wonder how her... sister dancers were going...
Had some escaped too?
Or were they found and punished?
She shuddered at the thought and began to drink water from the green plant.
Then a through occurred to her, what would happen to her trainer?
Most of the other around the recalled her trainer Desiree because she was the king's desire when it came to others. The king even desired Desiree over his own wife.
Desiree was one of the people who helped her escape as well. She attempted to help most of the escapees run.
She then ate the piece of the green plant. She was hungry and this would have to do. It has to do since she left. It had to do till she find a real place to stay... or till she died...
As a child, before she was made to be a dancer her passion was always art, drawing with sticks was the best but she loved all of them.
But that got taken away...
In the small crowed street she used live in, hundreds of people would rush about, children disappeared often but it was never noticed, or cared about.
Up till a certain point she was no one, just another child in the busy city scavenging to help her family eat. She even went as far to take a bread loaf, but it was only a small one and every few months.
It wasn't until when she was entering her young teens when she started to be noticed.
Her natural beauty was strong but not as strong as her will.
That's when it changed.
She was kidnapped off the street and taken away just like other children, only she was made to be a dancer, others were slaves, or even just taken to be slaughtered by the evil people who took them.  She was forced into training as a dancer against her will, but she never gave in.
The whole time she would fight back and run. Run, run, run, run.
There had been many escape attempts where she was found and returned to the king.
Just like any other dancer.
She yelped as a strong wind knocked her over with the hash sand being thrown into her. She couldn't get up! That's how strong the wind was.
She then started to crawl across the burning sand.
Even when she was down she kept fighting.
She fought till the end.
The strong wind kept knocking her over, even though she was close to the ground.
It was like the wind was a child and she a doll. Easily picked up and thrown around.
She knew she had to keep moving in this sand storm. If she stoped then she would be buried in an instant. Then all the running and escaping would have been for nothing...
Slowly she stood up despite the wind blowing her around.
She was going to beat the storm.
She was going to get out and escape.
She was going to live on and never be forced to be a dancer.
Never. Again.
Step... step... it was so much harder to move, to walk... the wind and sand was beating at her, making what little visible skin turn red from it hitting her.
She kept going, step by step, stumble by stumble. It seemed the sand storm was calming down a little.
But only a little.
She was still being thrown around and hit by the flying sand and hash winds.
How long was this going to last?
She whimpered at the thought of it lasting a long time.
Another yelp was released as she tripped over something in the sand.
She peered through the sand flying everywhere to see what it was.
Her brow furrowed in concentration to see it.
Through the orangey sand, by her boots she could see white and red...
she lightly kicked it with her foot, feeling it. Her eyes then widened in fear and disgust. She knew what it was.
An animal corpse...
She then scrambled to her fee to get away from it only to be knocked over by a strong gust of sandy wind.
Where there was dead animal corpse there would be hunters, and where there was hunters there was danger.
It didn't really matter if the hunter was human or not. They were still both deadly.
She had no weapons to fight the hunters and if it was an animal hunter then she would need even more then distance and a weapon.
She stood again and walked against the wind if the sand storm to get as far away as possible.
Adventurely she noticed the storm had calmed down. She was not being pushed down or thrown around by it. She could even see around herself a bit.
Did she just survive the worst of a sand storm?
She screamed out a "yes" in excitement and kept walking.
Soon she can across another one of the throng green plants.
She dashed over to it in delight and broken a piece off with her bleeding, red and bruised hands. All the thorns and harsh sand had damaged then to that point.
She broke the thorns off quickly and drank.
Who knew when the next and storm would hit and the nest time she could drink water and eat the green plant.
She ate the plant she held with a slight desperation to eat anything.
It was only now that she missed the food she was provided as a dancer. The food was constant and filling.
This green plant was hard to find and barely filled her. It was also causing her pain, but, it was there and supplied her with the much needed water.
She then looked at the plant thinking.
If she grabbed some now but didn't eat it then she could save it for later. It would give her a bit more distance if she carried it but if another storm hit then she would have to drop it so she wouldn't fall onto it and hurt herself worse. Yet that would only happen if she kept the thorns on it. Maybe she could pick the thorns off as she walked. Doing that would entertain her and keep her hands busy...
She really wanted to draw right now. It would calm her and to take her to a place of her imagination.
She would do that when she go to a new street, a new town, a new city... any place would do.
Sighing she grabbed a bigger piece of the thorny green plant and broke it off. She held it in her damaged hands and looked around.
No sighs of a sand storm...
Maybe she could sleep that night.
She then continued her journey of escape, picking off the thorns as she went.
It was dark again and the plant piece she held was only half de-thorned. Deciding she should rest, sleep, she looked around after sitting on the cold sand.
The sky were clear and she barely felt any wind. Like the last time she had done this she then landed on her side and went to sleep. This time looking at the mostly de-thorned plant.
Two weeks later she had counted the nights she had been there, but there was defiantly more than two weeks of walking.
Three weeks later she had counted at least fourteen sand storms over her time walking.
Five weeks she encounter the worst sand storm she had ever seen or faced.
As well as it throwing her around it also up rooted the green thorny plant. Once she was down she couldn't get up.
The severe winds would blow her again making her roll. It was impossible to get to a kneeling position because of the winds.
Her skin also burned from the sand hitting her. The sand and the wind just kept beating her down. Then there was the horrifying shriek coming from somewhere out there. It was so ear splitting loud and painful. The noise was hurting her ears so much that she felt it vibrate through her.
She yelped as a green thorny plant landed next to her.
The strong wind full of sand and the thorny plants picked up in loudness and harshness. It also pushed down on her even more making it impossible to even crawl across the sand.
The sand hit her like a thousand tiny whips. It was so much like whips.
She knew them all to well. Misbehaviour and escaping attempts got her whipped while some others were beheaded, thrown into a cell with no water or food, beaten or even stoned.
Some where lucky and escaped the terrible place by death, while the rest of them had to live their lives silently with the torture of being a dancer.
She screamed in pain as something scratched onto her leg.
What ever it was it was big and heavy.
She could feel the wind trying to pick her up but the thing on her leg weighed her down. Her leg was completely suck and probably was also broken.
It hurt so much and she noticed that she began to feel light headed.
Sand piled up on top of her despite how much she tried to move.
She was being buried alive while in agony from what ever held her down.
Even with the bandana she would suffocate if the sand buried her head. She still needed air and the bandana only stoped her from breathing in the sand.
She tried to move to get the sand off her, it didn't work. The pain from her leg was too much and the harsh wind were blowing her down and trying to pick her up, keeping her from moving all together.
More sand weighed her down with each passing second.
Soon she was feeling dizzier from the weight of the sand, blood loss and lack of air.
She kept trying to move to but it still didn't work.
After all this escaping and walking this was her end? She didn't want that...
She wanted to find a better place to live and sketch...