World Of Silhouettes

One

 --------------SCARLET AS I PICTURE HER ABOVE!!!! THANKS @katchat45 for the pic ideas!!!----------

My feet move one step in front of the other as I think. 

No matter how hard I try, I don't think i'll ever forget the day Mom died.

How? 

Shielding me, from the jerk people.

The soldiers.

I keep walking in silence, my bare feet stinging from the rocks under me. I almost wish for Katie to come walk up besides me on my way to the bakery. . . I can almost hear her wonderful laugh along with- 

"Scarlet! Hey!" I wince in surprise. Almost as if I will her there, Katie appears. I smile and wave with my left arm as I clutch onto the woven basket with my right. Katie runs up to me and smiles, her dark brown hair in a loose bun that was obviously made in haste. Her dark blue eyes pierce my lighter blue ones and we both smile again. 

"Heading out for the food rations?" She asks. On Saturdays, we head to get our weekly food rations. Some get more than others depending on the size of the family and how hard they work.Being that I am alone, I am forced to work much harder than most to stay alive.

"Yeah," I say. "And this means a lot more to me than it ever will to you. Slacker." I playfully slap her while she giggles. We walk along the road, enjoying the quiet peace. A child runs out of the house and bumps into Katie. She smiles and waves him off. 

"Mommy," The child calls to a woman in a full skirt, she smiles and hands him a flower. He runs back to Katie, with pink flushed cheeks. If only everyone were so sweet like this child.

"Yep," She picks up her long skirt, almost identical to mine and says through a yawn, "I guess having lots of siblings can be kinda helpful right? Especially when eight of them are under six and the Mom is dead!" 

"You have it way easier than me!" I say. She laughs and continues the pointless banter. Deep inside, its obvious I have it much harder than any of the sixteen year old girls we know. Not like there are many. Guess that makes men somewhat desperate.

As we reach the food rations, my throat tightens. The soldiers always make a point to draw attention to young women. "Never trust the soldiers," My mother would warn. "Most of them are drunk trigger happy fools looking to hurt people like us."  She said that right up to her death that happened only two years ago. "Well," Katie says. "Ill wait here while you go. My Father really dislikes me going out there and being possible. . . you know. . . while getting the family rations. He says its dangerous for girls like us to be exposed like that. Cant say I disagree."  I nod and begin to walk into the line of hungry people. Old and young alike.  A woman who seems to be middle aged is in front of me. She turns around and stares at me, a small hint of a smile on her wise-looking face.  I smile back. 

"Hello," I say. To my surprise, instead of returning my greeting,  her eyes pierce mine and after a full half- minute of her sizing me down like I'm a meal , her eyes water. Did I do something?

"I apologize," She says. "You see, you remind me of my daughter. Her hair was just like yours. Shoulder length and rather straight. In all her seventeen years of life, she never cut it once. Still, it never grew past her shoulders.

"I see." I turn away from the stranger. It makes me sad to see the elderly having to feel this pain. If I were king, this would never happen! But then again, anybody would be better than our king. King Lish. My blood boils at that name, I am forced to respect him. Forced to obey him. I have no idea on how he got this power over us, all I know is that he did. My mind doesn't go farther then my work here. Thats it.

"Next!" The soldier roars. To my surprise, the old lady is handing in her work papers for the week.  So many people moving so quickly, handing their papers over like loyal dogs.  The speed of the line always surprises me. The soldier scans the papers ands nods, obviously impressed. Judging by the type of person he seems to be, if she were a bit younger, he would eat her in a heart beat. 

"So," he says through a smirk. "Old people can work! Thats a surprise! I thought they just rolled over and died, while we dug the graves for them." The old lady does nothing. Her calm angers me. I am just about mad enough for both of us! I always have been somewhat of a hot-headed person. My Mother used to yell at me to control it, as it was not a healthy virtue. 

When the soldier sees her not becoming angry, his face reddens and he snatches her basket. He puts in eight loaves of bread, some cheese, milk, tea, and a small bit of jam.  I sense a smile on the mysterious ladys face. She most likely labored extremely hard to get that much.  I know that I could never get that much in one week. 

"Next!" He says, almost shoving the old lady out of line. I gasp as she nearly turns around and smacks him. Luckily, she doesn't. 

"Next! Idiot!" I realize i'm holding the line up so I run forwards.  

"Well!" The soldier says, pretending to bow. "To what do I owe the pleasure of such lovely company?" His eyes go places I know are not right.  My heart rate quickens. His breath smells of alcohol  and I lean back slowly. Sorry, but I'm not exactly looking to become a mother to a child. Not with you. 

Or here.

"My working papers," I say stiffly, handing him the small bit of paper. He reach out to grab it but at the last moment, clamps down on my wrist. I gasp and try to pull back, only to have him laugh at my dismay. This isn't ending well!

Haha! I know that this might be starting off a little bit slow, and I apologize for that. . . if you stick around, I promise, it gets better!!