I strode through the graden of forgotten life, and one desperate soul caught my eye. She was a small child, couldn't have been older than seven, and she looked at me with large, blank, blue eyes. I went to approach her, but the smell of death hung over her. Her dress was probably once beautiful, with pink frills and ribbons and lace bows around her neck, but now it drooped over the palest skin I had ever seen, covered with mud and bloody stains. The setting sun was almost out of sight, but I could still see that her golden hair was tangled with knots.
It took courage for me to ask her, "Who was it that left you here? Who could be so cruel?"
"T'was Momma and Pappa..." her small voice was so delicate and fragile. I barely heard it at all.
I took small steps towards her, "But why?"
Tears flowed down her cheeks, but her expression did not change, "They fought and fought until I lost hope of them dtopping. Then there was blood...so much blood, now this is my home,: the meloncholy in hwe voice startled me a bit.
I couldn't believe she talked with such wisdom in her voice. I fell to my knees to hold her, but when I touched her skin she disappeared, and I was left to hold myself in the garden of forgotten life.
 Alatria · Sat Jan 13, 2007 @ 12:18am · 0 Comments |
