CWC - The Summer

21: Publically asking for help.

So... I need help deciding just how the memories in my tale should be set up. Just tell me which version you like better please!

     She wakes shivering in a dark alley, sewer rats skittering along the walls around her, rain dripping down from everywhere and above.

     The rain is gray and dismal. She tries to remember the night before, searching her mind, but all she knows is an aching, all over.

     She sweeps her damp hair to a side, noticing the grime and grit in it, along with the great scratches of dirt that run along her arms. She remembers the lessons from not so long ago and crouches over a puddle, trying in some way to clean herself.

     As her reflection winks back at her she reels back with a high shriek. On the bone next to her right eye is the mark. It means prisoner, a death sentence, the great black snake heralding nothing at all good. She wonders what she could have done and searches within herself, for the memories that she knows are there.

     She remembers walking across dead, dry, grass, huge chunks of black and craggy rock scattered about before the great flames before her. Is this what had happened? Had she blown something up? She had had powers for only three years now, surely that must have been impossible for one as young and new as she.

     But then voices sound, and she loses the scattered images as she peeks around the wall of the alley. Just outside is a busting market, filled to the brim with people she had not noticed early because of her distress.

     She runs then. Every which way, all over it seems, sticking to the quietest paths, avoiding people. She knows she will have to interact with them eventually, but not yet. She has to stop, hours and days and miles later, when she is much too exhausted to take even one more step. She finds herself in a narrow alley, not at all unlike the one she had left. She slips down to the ground, letting her faded and rain bleached skirt settle down around her. And then, she sleeps.

And, version two!

     I wake shivering in a dark alley, sewer rats skittering along the walls around me, rain dripping down from everywhere and above.

     The rain is gray and dismal. I try to remember the night before, searching my mind for anything really, but all I know is that it aches all over.

     I sweep my damp hair to a side, noticing the grime and grit in it, along with the great scratches of dirt that run along my arms. I remember the lessons from not so long ago and crouch over a puddle, trying in some way to clean myself.

     As my reflection winks back at me I reel back with a high shriek. On the bone next to my right eye is the mark. It means prisoner, a death sentence, the great black snake heralding nothing at all good. I wonders what I could have done, and I search within myself for the memories that I know must be there.

     I remember walking across dead, dry grass, huge chunks of black and craggy rock scattered about before the great flames in front of me. Is that what had happened? Had I blown something up? I had had powers for only three years now, surely it must have been impossible for someone as young and new at magic as me.

     But I hear voices, and I lose the scattered images as I peek around the wall of the alley. Just outside is a busting market, filled to the brim with people I hadn't noticed early because of my distress.

     I run then. Every which way, all over it seems, sticking to the quietest paths, avoiding people. I know I will have to interact with them eventually, but not yet. I has to stop, hours and days and miles later, when I am much too exhausted to take even one more step. I finds herself in a narrow alley, not at all unlike the one I had left. I slip down to the ground, letting my faded and rain bleached skirt settle down around me. And then, I sleep.