Guilt

this is a 500 words short story, enjoy! :)

His display of courage was overwhelming. As the beast towered above him, preparing to strike, he stood tall. I knew he would not back down. He would not surrender. He knew what was at stake. Sweat rolled down his forehead as he stood with his head high - his meagre dagger raised.

   All I could do was watch. My heart beat twice as loud and threatened to leap out of my chest. I gripped the arm of the spectator next to me. I don’t care what people think of me now. If I lose him, I lose everything. I consider running to him, but that would just result in us both being slaughtered.

      Towards my right, there is a stand about 50 metres tall. I can just make out the silhouette of the plump ambassador of the north carefully piling his plate with the delicacies of the buffet provided. I bet they’re having a ball up there; eating piles of food, drinking the wine made from the grapes we work hard to harvest, and watching my Jonathan face this beast.

He didn’t do anything wrong. It was me. When the men with heavy uniforms approached me and questioned me, it was as if I couldn’t speak. I thought I would be killed for sure. But then, Jonathan, loyal and amazing Jonathan, stepped in and took the blame. As the men took him away, I screamed out his name. His eyes portrayed happiness and relief, although I could never figure out why.

Until now.

   He was happy I was going to be safe. That I was not the one who was going to be thrown into the arena for punishment and their entertainment. My feet are now frozen to the spot. We never said how we felt towards each other properly, but we both knew. And now I am watching him die. The guilt consumes me until I can hardly breathe. No. I can’t let him down. He is facing that terrible monster with just a dagger and I am standing here dwelling on the past. I glance at the stand once more. The face I see is one that will be sure to haunt me in my dreams. It is the face of Alaina Truder.

She was the one who began this cruel punishment. The one who persuaded the high council that we were their subjects and could be controlled and put to work. Now we just seem like playthings to them. Alaina Truder. Her eyes seemed to dig into my soul. They seemed to sink beneath my skin, sending a cold chill up my spine. She knew exactly what she was doing. How she was manipulating the city. How she was playing this twisted game.

But she didn’t know my next move, I could tell. I run. I run towards Jonathan and fling myself over him like a protective shield.

“Annamae,” he breathes.

And then, I find myself looking into the cold, hard, dead eyes of the beast.