She wished she could forget everything. Sitting down at the edge of the riverbank, with her bare-feet feeling the powerful current pulling at her, she wished she could let go and let the river take her wherever it wanted to take her. She felt the grass underneath her, the night sky filled with millions of stars, and the gentle breeze caressing her as well. It could almost make her forget the night three years ago when her entire village had been killed.
She had been six at the time, and had been living a happy life with her parents and little brother in their small cottage. She barely recalled her parent’s faces but perfectly remembered her little brother, as he looked up at her with his adorable round eyes with his short brown her. The air was filled with the scent of the dinner and the laughter of her parents as they cooked dinner together. The fire was jumping a little which was dangerous for the straw walls but her father kept extinguishing it in midair whenever it got too close to the walls. She laughed too, picking up her brother in her arms as an arrow flew in, tearing through the flimsy walls and piercing her little brother in her arms. She watched with horror as he slowly died, looking up at her with those eyes that eventually went blank. She was stunned and then came the piercing screams. She looked out the window and saw other cottages on fire, smoke pouring out of them. Men in hooded cloaks were casting fire at both cottages and people. Her fellow village men tried to run but were set aflame in their attempts. The screams and wails of everyone flooded her mind. She backed into a corner, shuddering, still holding her little brother. She remembered her mother removing her brother from her arms and carrying him away. She recalled her father taking off his necklace and placing it on her. He held her for a brief instant, let go, grabbed her mother by the hand and ran out. They barely got three steps when they were both incinerated. By some miracle the hooded men left her house alone, leaving her to suffer the tormented night of smoke and death. She was found there, five days later, still huddled and still covered in her brother’s blood.
She couldn’t believe that had been three years ago. It still felt so real. She still had the pendant her father gave her as well as the blood of her brother in her hands. She took her feet out of the water and plunged her hands in instead, hoping to cleanse herself. She pulled them out and examined them. They had not a single trace of blood but she still felt his blood, as if it were fresh. She shuddered and took the pendant in her arms. It was a half-moon, with a sword going through it. She had no clue what it meant but she never took it off. It was her only link to the past. She held it, feeling a bit of comfort. She then continued walking along the river bank, humming to herself, trying to forget the past and its stains.
-Wow pretty dark stuff…. I usually don’t write like that but this is important to her character. Sorry for the massive delay, it was one hell of a hectic year-end. But my new resolution (among others) is to publish Tuesdays and Thursdays, and on some occasions, Fridays. Till then, O.S. Vargas ^.^