Nothing Left To Break

Prologue

"Angharad! Tyd yn ol!" (Angharad, come back!)

The voice echoed down the cobblestone street. The early morning mist still low in the ground, swarming around the feet of those who dared to walk through it.

She didn't dare look back. She would never look back again. Not on that life.
On the life that turned her harsh, sour, numb.

She was happy. Angharad, was happy. She would get up each morning and thank the gods above of her luck. Of how she had a perfect fiancé who loved her, a baby on its way and a respectably sized house to live in and grow her family. She had a job at a small school in the village that she lived in. Her life was completely and utterly, perfect.

Then began the war.

Her love was shipped off to France. Never to return, not the same anyway. Angharad would never look in to his kind, gently-hearted, Hazel eyes again. Instead, she would look into mean and emotionless eyes. Ones that she had grown to despise.

Her baby had died. A stillbirth. Yet, no one came to her in her hour of need. No one was there. Angharad was left alone in the once happy home, to cope and to heal from her trauma that no one would dare speak of. It was a hidden thing, or that is what she was told to do by her neighbour. The only stable mother figure that she had ever had.

Now, however, Angharad was running. In her long, white, wedding dress that would never fulfill its full duty. Not to that man. She vowed to herself that this would be the last time that she ever ran away from something. She had changed. She was strong. After this final flee she would forget everything from the past six years.

She turned the corner, her heels slipping slightly on the cobblestone. Angharad regain her balance and carries on running.

"Ti'n mynd I difaru hwn!" (You're going to regret this)