The Season Trials

C H A P T E R T W O

Unedited. If you see mistakes tell me so I can fix them!

___________________________

C H A P T E R       T W O

               As they drag me away, I can only stare in horror at the scene around me. Bodies litter the street, the drain leading to the main creek running red with blood. At this point, I'm not even sure if I'm screaming—I can't hear a thing. Static buzzes in my ears, so loud it blocks out everything else. I know I should hear screaming—whether it's someone else's or my own—, and I should feel fear. But instead, I hear nothing but static and I'm too numb to feel anything.

               Jaylee runs out of the house, voice opening in a soundless scream. It's my name she's saying, but I just can't hear it. A shadow looms above her and I attempt to warn her, but I'm too late. In the midst of her screams, hands grab her from behind shoving her to the ground in a violent tackle. Still, her eyes never leave mine, and the tears shining in them almost break through the haze of numbness that I feel. I can only watch helplessly, digging my heels into the dirt road in an attempt to get away, as one of the soldiers slaps her across the face. The red mark on her cheek appears immediately, violent and angry in its shade.

               Staring around me, at all the bloodshed, I can't stop the anger growing until it threatens to boil over in a fit of rage. All this bloodshed—and for what? A few more servants for the capital? Just another scare tactic? Death surrounds me, bodies dropping by the second. As tears start to fall, I can only imagine the grieving in the aftermath of the morning. There will be hundreds of bodies to bury, all murdered for useless reasons.

Kaylee's face echoes in my mind, the visions painful enough to hurt. Tomorrow, Kaylee will wake up and mum's body will still be there, lying in the middle of the house. They'll have to bury her; essentially burying both of us. I'm gone, never to return again, unless it's in a body bag, damaged and broken. If that doesn't happen, Kaylin Renoz will disappear forever.

               Movement flashes by and I watch, almost in slow motion, as a toddler, no more than three falls at my feet. I don't hear the gun fire, but I see the bullet hit, before the girls falls at my feet, hand reaching out to grab my leg. I'm too shocked to shake it off, the hand chilling me to the bone. Blood pools at my feet, staining the worn shoes on my feet. Lifeless eyes stare up at me and I shrink back in horror. Panic sets in; breathing suddenly becoming a difficult task.

               A foot kicks out, jarring the slack hand off my leg. It falls limply to the ground. The hands around me grapple, before they grip my arms like a vice. I'm helpless as they drag me away, wishing I knew if I was still screaming. Jaylee stares at me, from where she's tackled on the ground, tears falling. Her mouth moves soundlessly, repeating the same words over and over: I love you. I love you. I love you.

               I love you too, I mouth back, trying to see through the tears blinding me—wishing I could say more. Tell her to say strong for dad. To honour mum. To forget about me and worry about her own life. But most of all I want to tell her to live while she still has the chance to be free.

               *

               When they finally stop marching me through the streets, I'm forced onto a set of steps. Wincing, I want to tell them to stop pushing. But I keep quiet, knowing nothing will stop them. They don't care that I may have a broken ankle, from being shoved into a ditch in the ground. The tears don't faze them, nor do the screams.