The forest was dark, silver moonlight silhouetted dark shadows. The cold air was thick with tension and fear as two people ran through the dense trees, dressed in white. “Jeremy!” The girl screeched, her long black hair flying in front of her face, her bright green eyes glowing. She reached her hand out, trying to grab her brother. He was lagging and they both knew it. If they got caught it would be the end; or at least the end after the end. The cold wind whipped through them as they ran through the dense forest; branches and sharp stones scratching them. The brother and sister caught eyes and she knew what her brother was going to say. “No, no.” She wasn’t going to leave him, he was all she had left now and both of them were all the hope the world had. She could hear the dogs barking and the distant yell of men. Icy-blue eyes and silver hair flashed across her mind, but she pushed it down. Her brother grabs her hand, knowing from experience that she would never leave him behind and they did a sharp turn racing onto a rotten highway road. A sharp scream ruptured through the night air and the girls breathe left her in a gasping moment. I’m sorry, she thinks. I’m so, so sorry.
I wake up; sweat sticking my hair to my face. My breathing is hard and I can still hear the screaming ringing in my ears. My hands are bunched into fists, clutching handfuls of sheet. It felt so real, I could even feel the bone-rattling wind on my skin. Another dream, I sighed and wiped the sweat from my forehead. Why are these two kids haunting me?
I stared at the faded photo, holding it carefully by the golden, brown wood frame. It was a family of four all smiling and sitting in. A mum and dad and two kids. Their eyes starred mournfully out at me. The picture was a year or so old, but it had been through a lot and were lucky to have even survived this long. The picture so faded I could barely see their faces, but I didn’t really need to; their faces were sketched into my memory. From the details one could make out they all looked alike; brown hair, blue eyes and short but strong builds, except one.
The girl was taller than the others in the photo, making her look twenty-five, but she was really fifteen. She stood out against the blue -now grey- background. Her eyes were light, like the others but more of an icy-gray colour. The kind that pierced through your soul. She was taller than the rest, slimmer and more delicate but even those small differences wouldn’t have caused people to turn heads. It was the hair that showed her oddness the most. Pure white. The long locks flowed down to the waist, illuminating; the girl had always been told that she was special. But she never believed it, she had tried to dye her hair once a really beautiful brown like her families; but the dye had just dripped off like slippery oil. Even after all the trouble her hair had caused her the girl was happy and smiling with full mouth and full teeth. She was happy.
I starred at the girl in the photo, and then looked up into the mirror. My hair had always been unnaturally white so that hadn’t changed but the me in the photo was so different to the me in the mirror. I was taller, less delicate almost rough looking. In the photo I looked much healthier and fuller. Now the lack of sun and nutritious food I was much thinner and much pale, setting my hair even brighter. I looked tired, black patches sunk under my eyes, my clothes were ragged. What had once been blue-jeans was now faded and grey and the cheap white shirt that I had scrounged up a week ago was now not-so white and entirely ragged on the edges. I never used to look like this, not until the fire.
