No escape from the past (book 1)

Chapter one

War was over, war was over, war was over. The words go over and over again through my head. I still can hear the guns and shovels in my mind and it wants me to go mad. No, I have never fighted in the war, but if you are from France, it's a commun thing.

Now, I'm in England. A man from England had taken me with them, because I would have been in too much trouble in France. I wouldn't blame them if they knew a fifteen year old girl killed 11 men.

They were scared of what they would do to me, so they brought me to Engeland, going to an orphanage. Not that that helped a lot, but I let them think that. I train every day, my hands are always bloodied or bruised.

Some of the children in the orphanage say that I need to be locked up in some mad house. But, I'm not mad, well not anymore. It doesn't help that I still have a light French accent, but I don't really care. I think it's something unique.

Outside, I always play with the horses that they have. One of them is black, a beautiful horse, really fast and well trained. It was the race horse of the owner of this blood forsaken house.

I always ride him, because the owner died and no one knows how to ride them. I do, before the war, I used to have a horse. My father would teach me how to make them as fast as possible.

So I learned how to ride and how horse races worked, it's pretty fascinating, but then the war started and all the horses were needed in the war. They would come with guns and would shoot anyone who got in their way.

I didn't want to give up my horse and one of the soldiers wanted to kill me, but my father gave them my horse, in return for my life. They left with my horse, but that wasn't the worst thing that happened.

Later, in the night, they came back. I can hear their shovels against the wall and come through the wall. I slept in my parents bedroom and woke up. They killed my parents in front of my eyes.

Then they took me, the germans, not the englishman. They wanted me to be their little spy, they taught me how to read and write. I already was good with numbers, but they wanted me to be the best.

Then, finally England came, it was better than ever. But they let the man go, who killed my parents and only took me. But that wasn't enough for me, so I took their guns and went back. Back to the people who murdered my parents.

I killed them all, one got away, but 11 of the men were killed by my hand. The Englishman found out and wanted me to come with them to England, for a better life, he had said. But the only thing England had brought me was more trauma and boredom.

So now I'm in this bloody forsaken house and no one wants to adopt me. They all say I'm a monster and I should be killed or locked up. Sometimes I even tell myself that. But this horse, this beautiful black horse brings me joy.

The only type of joy I've ever needed. But that would also change, some man from Birmingham had bought him and was going to pick him up today. So now I sit here, with the horse in a big field, wanting to leave so badly.

I hear the voices of two men coming this way. One is the new owner of the orphanage, a real asshole. He always slaps the children when we do something that are in his eyes bad. That's why he always slaps me without any good reason. And when I ask him why, he always answers the same.

'Because God doesn't love killers.'

'Parce que Dieu n'aime pas les tueurs.'

The voices come closer and I hear that the other man has an accent. That's probably the buyer. I stand up and go towards the horse. I lean my head against his head, I sigh and hear the owner call my name.

I always call him visage de faucon, Hawk face, because his nose looks like that of a hawk. I can tell you, it's not a compliment.

'Mila, bring the horse here,' I hear him yell and I sigh. I click with my tongue and the horse follows me. I walk towards the French and see the second man.

He's tall, wears an expensive suit and a cap. I see something shimmering in the light of the sun in the back of his cap and wonder why. He has a serious look on his face and shows respect.

'This is the bloody horse you asked for,' Visage de faucon says and looks at me with an angry expression. I stay close to the horse and look at the other man.

'I can see that,' he says slowly and climbs over the fence. He slowly walks towards the horse and me. 'What's your name, girl?'

'Who asks?' I answer and I see the angry expression on Visage de fauson's face getting bigger.

'Of course, I'm Thomas Shelby,' the man answers and points out his hand. I look at the hand and sigh.

'Mila Lavigne,' I say quietly and you can definitely hear the French accent that I still have. I slowly shake his hand, but don't look into his eyes.

'A French name,' he says and I nod.

'Yes, sir,' I say slowly and look at the horse next to me. I take a small step towards it and Thomas slowly nods.

'How old are you, Mila?' he asks and I sigh.

'I'm fifteen, sir,' I say slowly and look up into his eyes. 'I've been in England since the end of the war.'

'What's the name of the horse?' he asks and looks at the black horse next to me.

'The horse doesn't have a name,' Visage de fauson says and Thomas slowly turns around.

'I didn't ask you, did I, eh,' he says and turns back towards the horse and me. 'I asked the girl.'

'His name is Monaghan boy, sir,' I say and Thomas slowly nods. He walks toward the horse and inspects it.

'It's a good horse,' Thomas says and I slowly nod. 'Who rides him?'

'No one really does,' Visage de fauson says and leans against the fence. 'He was from the past owner of this orphanage.'

'Again, I didn't ask you, I asked Mila,' Thomas says and keeps his eyes on me. 'Who rides him and trains him? I can see that he is in good shape for a horse who only stays in this field.'

'I do, sir,' I say slowly and look at my dirty hands. 'The past owner was too old to ride him, so he asked us if one of us knew how to ride. I had a horse before the war in France, so he said I could ride it.'

'How old were you again, girl?' Thomas asks again and I slowly look up.

'Fifteen, sir,' I answer and he slowly nods.

'Thank you for your time, I will let you know when I'm gonna pick him up,' he says and Visage de faucon nods.

'That's fine, Mr. Shelby,' he says and looks at me. 'I will make sure this girl won't make any trouble for you.'

'That won't be necessary, she will come with him,' Thomas says and nods. I stand there in shock and Thomas turns around. 'If I found out you have beaten her before I pick her up, I'll cut you, understand?'

'Yes, Mr Shelby,' Visage de faucon says and looks at his hands. His knuckles are red, probably from beating one of the orphans.

'Good, have a nice day,' he says and just climbs over the fence again. He locks eyes with me, but leaves quickly, I stand there in complete silence and shock.

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Word count: 1343
Written: 12-05-2021
Published: 12-14-2021
Edited: ...

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