Hello, everyone! Grr, I have so many posts planned for you all, but I’m determined not to post anything until I’ve finished the photo space tutorial! 😮 I’m working hard on it, though, and I’ll try to get it up soon. 😉
Anyways, here’s my entry for AAWC #3! Misty, I included a Pegasus and the prompt word, “Broken.” 🙂
My mom read this and was like, “Wow, Clara. That is really dark.” xD So, just be warned, this story is a little depressing. 😛
The tall, jet-black figure slips through the small doorway, a long cloak wrapped around his body, a hood disguising his face. Ebony mist surrounds him, cold and foreboding, surging with tendrils of fear. He reaches up a dark hand to throw back his hood and survey his surroundings.
The hut is small and meager, with only a chair, bed, and trunk to fill the empty corners. The man notes with pride that the walls and floor are sparkling clean, with not a spot of dust or dirt in sight. Moonlight streams through the tiny window, filling the room with a silver light.
He turns to the bed, where a small lump is curled up under a ragged quilt. The man bends over and pulls away the quilt with a cold hand, revealing the young girl underneath. His thick mist surrounds her body, making her whimper in her sleep. Suddenly her eyes fly open, and she jumps to her feet and scrambles backwards, her eyes wide.
She snatches something from under the quilt, her hands trembling with fear. It’s a tiny, tattered cardboard box, the flaps carefully closed to hide it’s contents. She hugs it close to her chest and gazes up at the man. He smiles painfully, his haunting voice a mix of cruelty and sorrow.
“Be a good girl, and give it here.” He holds out a misty, gloved hand.
She tosses her white hair away from her face and stares up at him with defiance sparking in her dark eyes.
The man shakes his head. “You never will learn, will you?” His voice lowers to a dangerous tone, his eyebrows furrowed behind his dark veil of mist. “Lamya, give me the box.”
She eyes the small doorway, her arms instinctively squeezing the box close to her heart. “I will never give it to you, Father. You will have to kill me first.” With that, she ducks under her father’s arm and dashes out into the cold night, her pure white nightgown swishing around her ankles. Her father turns slowly around, fury filling his eyes.
“If you insist.”
He steps out of the house, shaking with rage. Slowly, he reaches out and places his hands against the walls of the hut, mist seeping from his fingertips. Dark, thorny vines burst from the ground, their thick tendrils squeezing the small structure as it groans and creaks.
Lamya watches from the edge of the forest, her heart pounding. She speaks, her voice cracked and terrified. “No!” She kneels on the wet ground. “Please, Father.”
Her father turns to face her. “This is your last chance.”
She closes her eyes for a long moment, then opens them with new, grieved determination on her small face. “Fine. Destroy my home. You will never have this.” She reaches her hand into the box and pulls out a small white necklace, a sad smile growing on her face as the ivory pegasus dangling from it’s chain shimmers and glows.
Her father lets out an almost inhuman growl, and the dark vines instantly tighten their grip on the cottage. The walls begin to crack, the roof trembles and quakes. All of a sudden, the whole structure crumbles, and Lamya’s only home is gone, nothing remaining except a small heap of black dust.
Lamya sobs, her milky white tears flowing freely. The only thing she had left to love has been destroyed. She feels something crack deep inside of her, as if her heart has split in two. Her hands tremble and unbelievable grief covers her face.
She is broken.
Her father watches from his dark cloud, fighting the deep urge to run to her side, comfort her, and be her loving father again.
After a while, Lamya dries her tears. With one last glare at her father’s shadowy figure, she slips away into the trees.
As soon as she is gone, her father sinks to his knees, all traces of anger gone from his face. He touches his own necklace, adorned with the cracked and broken figure of a dragon. Black tears drip slowly down his face, wetting his cloak. He tears at the ground with dark fingers, a bitter sob escaping his ebony lips.
He is broken.
Yup. Depressing. It was fun to write, though! xD What are your thoughts? Be sure to comment below! 🙂
In other (EXCITING) news, I’VE ORDERED MY NEW CAMERA!! EEE! 😀 It’s a Nikon D3000, and I’m so excited for it to come! 😮 😀
Thanks so much for reading! Have a great day. 🙂