Ember. It means fire. Ember was never safe. Even before she was born she was coverted. Hunted. She's the last of her kind. Once there were many. Once there were four. Four families. One for each element. Air. Water. Earth. Fire. Every other family e...
The hooded women ran. Ran faster then she ever believed to be possible. She was losing a lot of blood. She didn't care. She had to make it. The uncountable cuts that could be found on any and every part of her body looked like she had been slashed a hundred, maybe a thousand times, with a sword. That wouldn't stop her. The desired building was in sight. She just had to keep running. Clutching the bundle of blankets close to her chest to shield it from the pouring rain. The rain, however, was her ally this night. It washed away the thick trail of blood she was bound to leave with all the cursed cuts on her body. Cuts she was unable to heal. At least the rain would wash away the trail of blood, making it impossible for him to follow her. She knew her heart beats were numbered but she was determined to reach her destination before her heart beated it's last beat. She was dying. There was no point in denying it. She stumbled as she pushed herself to reach the building. There was so little time, it was the best she could do.
Luck was on her side. She reached the building. Panting what she feared would be her last breath. There was still one more thing she must do before she is greeted by death. Her body ached with unbearable pain but she still forced herself up the many stairs to the big double front doors. There was no time to knock. She forced them open with a slam. The elderly women at the front desk gave a jump of fright and stared at the bleeding women in a transfixed horror. Panting, the dying woman slumped to the floor. Her breath leaving her as her heart beats grew fainter. The women at the front desk rushed over.
"Oh my! Oh gosh! I'll - I'll call the police! You just hold on!" The women said frantically.
"No, please. . ." The dying women said and revealed the bundle of blankets to the other women.
"Oh my word!" The women said as she knelt down by the dying women.
The dying women shakily placed the source of her unbelievable strength in the arms of the stranger she was now in trusting her most treasured possession to.
The elderly women looked down at the bundle of blankets and saw a most precious sight.
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Sleeping so soundly was a tiny baby. Barely a few days old. She was warm compared to this cold October night. The elderly women looked at the dying women.
"Is there a way for me to contact her father?" The elderly women said, a tear falling down her wrinkled face for the suffering stranger before her.
The dying womens eyes filled with tears.
'She looks so young', the elderly women thought. She can't be older then twenty.
"Dead." The dying women croaked out, panting.
"Any family member I could contact? Anyone at all?" The elderly woman said desperately.
The dying women weakly shook her head. Though the dying women had no family left to speak of that had not already died giving her refugee, she had friends. Good friends. But he would expect the dying women to send her daughter there. She trusted her friends with all her heart but this was not a matter of trust. It was a matter of survival.
"She's — she's safer — here. They won't find her here." The dying women said.
