I Will Be Strong

#3

They reached their destination in record time, considering all the pulling and screaming the little girl had done. Synchoro set her down on a stone step and finally let her wrists go. She could have run, she could have escaped there and then, but she was frozen to the spot. She was on a balcony, and directly below her, was a crowd larger than any she'd seen before. People pushing and shoving to move to the front, the smell horrific. Many seemed to be from the east side of town; with their ripped clothes and bruises from the cruel labour their lords forced them to do. The children's hair was matted and most of the adults had lost the luxury of precious locks, dangling down their backs to warm them in the cold winters long ago. Only a few wore shoes, the others had red, calloused feet that looked as though they had lost all feeling. But what struck the little girl most was the eyes of every person in the crowd. They were all brilliant shades of blues, greens and browns but they seemed to be missing something. They were empty, hungry for something more in life. However, not a single one of them seemed to have a drop of hope left inside of them. They had been completely drained of thoughts that it would get better, that the Corrupted would go home, that her father would be the King they all dreamed about. The little girl watched the peasants with wonder and confusion until she realised what they were all doing there.

"No,"  she whispered to herself, "no, HE CAN'T DO THIS!" she screamed, causing the young Synchoro to snap his neck around and stare at the little girl; tears streaming down her face, with a look in her eyes that said she wanted to run away but her legs just wouldn't let her.

How could her father find joy out of other's suffering? He had lied to her. Poblivio was not dead; yet. He had lied to her and forced her to come. So she would witness his execution. So she would be terrified into obeying him. All these people, these peasants, had come to see the show. The little girl stumbled to her feet and turned to run down the winding staircase to the courtyard. She didn't know what she would do when she got there, but she had to save Poblivio. She had to save him from his cruel fate that she would never be able to forget if she were to witness it, as her father had planned. Synchoro grabbed at her but missed, he may have been strong but she was lightning quick. She took the stairs two at a time to the bottom, almost tripping herself over in the process.

"POBLIVIO!" she screamed as she saw the familiar face being led out of the small hut and onto the platform, "POBLIVIO!" she shrieked again.

This time, he looked up. Oh, how he had changed after being in a cell for a week. His face was dead, with no emotions present. He didn't even seem fearful, he was hollow. An empty shell of a person, with no feelings left inside of him. But, upon seeing the little girl's face, his eyes lit up. For a moment, she could see the real Poblivio; smiling and joking around as 10-year-olds should.

He opened his mouth to call out to her, to call out to anyone, but was harshly grabbed by the executioner and thrown on the floor. The servants lined his head up on the block as her struggled and tried to yank his neck out of their grip. The little girl ran towards him, pushing through the crowd, desperately trying to reach the platform. Poblivio screamed against the hold of the servants as the executioner was handed his axe, freshly sharpened. He yelped and shrieked and whimpered as each thundering step brought the executioner closer to him. The little girl was almost at the platform, but she picked up her pace when she saw the axe being lifted into the air.

"POBLIVIO! Poblivio, I'm here!" she shouted as she reached the front of the crowd, directly in-front of the platform. To be honest, Poblivio was lucky not to have been hung from the gallows right next to it. People said that you could be hanging for almost an hour before your neck broke, or you were strangled to death. For many common criminals, the axe was lucky. But not for Poblivio. He was only a boy. And the little girl was going to make sure he became a man.

"POBLIVIO!" she shouted again. Poblivio looked up to see her bright green eyes, staring at him with fear and determination. But he could do nothing. His fate was already decided.

As the axe came down and sliced clean through his neck, the little girl was too shocked to gasp. Too shocked to even notice the strong hands of Synchoro grabbing her and dragging her back to her father. She felt faint, and faint spatters of blood covered her freshly cleaned white dress. But she didn't care. She could only think of his last word. Her name, just her name. But the way he had screamed it, the way his eyes had filled with tears and his body tensed as he shouted her name was too much for her to bear.

And with that, Poblivio May's life had ended. With one fatal blow of the axe and one name, shrieked at the top of his lungs:

"AVERY!"