The nameless girl lost her history mid-morning on a lovely golden day of autumn in a field of smoke and ash.
She had the wings of an angel and the tattered hair of an orphan.
Wind blew cries of battle and pain towards her, and she ran like hell int...
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Sabrina
Curled up in a blanket on a stowed away shipping container on a rough sea, I shiver.
Annabelle is next to me. We had found a boat also scheduled to head for Port Liera, where the girls on Q. Quinn had been taken, but they wouldn't let us on, as we had no money to pay for the trip.
Of course, that didn't stop us from sneaking on with storage and hiding away in a large, empty shipping container.
We had also taken blankets from decks down below whilst everyone was given food, and stolen food from the kitchens while everyone was asleep.
Our neat little space had blankets in the left corner of the side wall and a crate stacked with tinned food in the other corner. The back wall was open but positioned so that another container was in front of it. Allowing an exit but stopping anyone else from seeing us.
Even so, we'd have to pack our set-up back up and hide it in a trapdoor in the planks when we got up for the day, just in case.
The wind whistles outside, and I think of a tune that sounds familiar.
"Da-Da-Da, Da-Da- Dee, would you wait for me?
In the blue sky, on the white-clouds, holding on 'til sun-down,
Would you, oh would you, would you wait for me?"
The tune keeps playing as the wind picks up speed, the blankets fluttering and waking Annabelle up, messy brown hair flying everywhere as the winds increase, playing the soft tune on repeat.
"What the hell? Cut it out, Rin!"
I look back at her in confuse.
"What? It's just the wind?"
I laugh, spreading my fingers out as cool sea-air flows between the gaps. Anna yells something at me, but it's drowned out by the beautiful hymn of the soaring wind.
In the blue sky, on the white clouds, holding on 'til sun-down,
Over forest-green and coloured-buds, sitting on moss-covered rocks,
Where the snow-falls, on an ice-lake, thin ice, opaque,
By the horned-deer, near the red-fox, pretty songs from the bird-box,
There the sun-shines, light blooming, white, stark, eye-opening,
Where the shadows sit, where darkness waits, not that bad, just you wait,
When sparks flash, they catch alight, hot burning flames tonight,
But I'll be right there, wait patiently,
Would you, oh would you, would you wait for me?
Annabelle stalks up to my face, hands in front of her eyes to protect herself from the wind.
