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They left me out.
Jerks.
It was too easy.
Although... Why wouldn't they trust me? What would an innocent ten-year-old child do? Burn the village with air matches?
Anyways, things never happen like we plan them.
I'm in alert.
We cross the white gravel road that winds between the tombs.
The governor, whose name I do not remember, is being buried in the other side of the cemetery.
I walk, recording every detail of the place in my mind. All information isn't enough.
Suddenly, a sound calls my attention. I stop in my traks and let the small entourage formed by my parents, Lord Ástrel and their respective servants move away.
No one takes a look back.
I try to identify the source of my curiosity.
There.
A girl who should be around my age is grabbing a simple stone tomb with desperate gesture. At her feet, a woman tries to pull her away. After the women a girl greater than me and another smaller cry in silence. The first of them holds a new born baby. A smile appears on my lips.
"¡It's not true!" Yells the girl of the tomb "it can't be..." our gazes meet.
My smile widens.
A single eye looks at me with hate.
If she had the two of them, that same hatred could ignite the whole village.
Air matches won't be necessary.
YOU ARE READING
Shelter From The Storm
Teen Fiction"Stop it. But he continues. He does not belong to anything or anybody, but to himself. Sink that ship. He demanded. And the sea did. Shatter it. He hissed. And the storm did. The sea. The storm. Both of them are whimsical bodies, with cold and ruthl...
