They were closing down on me again; the ceiling and the floor. Like the jaws of some great malicious beast. The room was bare; a monotonous grey, the only different color was my pale blue bed robe. Death would be inevitable if I didn't act now. As usual I could find nothing to wedge between to rapidly advancing walls. I looked harder, blinking once, twice, until two familiar sticks materialized in front of me. A tender green branch and a blue steel staff.
Unwilling to risk a single line of defense, I wedge both sticks in the lowest corner of the room. They hold for a few precious seconds. The ominous walls groan and come to a halt. Then the staff begins to crack.
The moment goes by so fast don't realize what happened until I notice the blue metal shard embedded in my palm. The pain is simultaneously absent and crippling at the same time. But I'm alive. It's determined to kill me, the room is smaller now and the stale air chokes me.
In the corner the tender green branch is bent twice over, but is still holding up the ceiling.
Safael jumped on the bed, accidentally landing on my foot. I yelped and woke with a start. Turning my foot so it wasn't at an awkward angle, I pulled the covers up and used my free foot to kick his arse. The intent was to inflict enough damage for him to at least wince but with only four hours of sleep there is only so much one can do. He chuckled and slid off as if using my foot at a landing pad was his intention all along.
He interrupted my dream. The pinch of this loss wasn't very painful for I had dreamt the same dream every night for the last three months.
YOU ARE READING
The Price of Peace
RandomIn the cruel game we call life, How far do you think two teenagers will go to save their people? Suppressing all inner urges, faking smiles and and swallowing pleas for freedom. This is the story of One war, Two planets, Ten crazy royals, Sixty bill...
