Beatrice's Peculiar Story

Chapter 1

There is blood everywhere. Smoke is all around me thickening the air I'm breathing. I'm running blindly from the enemy, not sure if it's behind or in front of me. I can't find anyone. The sound of the blazing fire is almost deafening. The luck of finding anyone is slim to none. The house is on the verge of falling. I'm running as quickly as I can trying to find my friends, even the hope of finding miss Ibis. They took her, the wights. The loop I know and love won't reset and I will age forward and who knows how long I will last. I have been in that illusion for so many years and I have lost time. I don't even remember how old I would be. I keep on running but my chest is burning making me want to stop but I can't, not at a time like this. My dark brown hair constantly falls out of place and making it harder to see. The tears that are forming in the corner of my eyes doesn't help my vision either. I kick down the back down to my beloved house, releasing a large cloud of smoke. I jump doen from the porch and continue running. Who knows if those hollowgasts are still looking for a peculiar child to feed off of.

The grass covering the ground is filled with unknown dangers to my bare feet. I keep running until I reach where the land meets with the ocean. Most of my life I have lived on this small island, being protected from the dangers that are in the real world for a peculiar like me. Now it was time to move on and accept my fate of aging forward. I cheated life and now I had to face the consequences. The loop still had time to before it would rest but I have to leave now. In the bushes sits an old raft that my friends and I built in secret. We always wanted to go sailing and see new worlds but, Miss Ibis stopped us. Seeing it made the tears the were sitting in my tears ducts stream out. I try to tell myself that the tears can wait.

How pathetic. I can't cry at a time like this. I have possible monsters that can't be seen from my eyes that want to consume me and here I am crying. Plus, knowing my friends, they wouldn't wouldn't me crying over them like this.

I dry off the tears with a quick swipe of my sleeve and focus on what I really needs to be done.

Escaping.

I drag out the old raft which I don't think is even safe to use and pushed it into the chilling water. I despise cold water and i fight the pain which feels like thousands of needles stabbing me all at once. I waded out with it until it could float properly. Of course it is a windy and cloudy day when the raft has come in handy. Thankfully there is an island not to far from here but, I will most likely not even make it due to the rough waters. I hold the rotting oar in my hands trying to paddle. The waves are too strong against my tired arms but I must keep going. If I'm going to die, it's not going to be by a hollowgast. The raft can barely take the waves crashing into it, soaking me and chilling my body to the bone. The island seems to be getting closer and I'm not sure how much longer I can paddle. The thoughts of doubt fill my head, telling me to give up and that I'm not going to make it either way. There's a small voice telling me to keep going. For some idiotic reason I listen to that one.

After a few dreadful hours, the waves calmed down as the wind died down. It was easier to paddle with the sad excuse of a raft to the other island. The raft made of scrap pieces of wood and tin scrapped against the rocky bottom making the usual horrible screeching sound.  Today it was one of the greastest sounds because I know I have made it. The loop must have closed by now. The day was now March 23rd 1938. A day I thought I would never see. My arms are sore and my hands are rubbed to a pink fleshy pulp that would sting from any slight movement. I leave the poor raft on the edge of the ocean and walk off onto the rocky shore of the beach. I fall down to my knees. My body hurts but, I can't help smiling. I place my gaze onto a small village with few wooden carriages carrying some passengers. They are wear quite some strange clothing. I see a girl wear trousers which is odd to me.
Sheep are grazing freely on the rich grass. I get back to my feet that have shriveled up from the salt water and walk on the path that was considered a road.