No. Not those memories! I wouldn’t live till morning!
But the plague began anyways. I was younger, a lot younger. I was nine. I followed helplessly after my mother and father, who both held each of my hands. The crowd was enormous. If I let go, I’d get lost. That’s exactly what happened.
“Mama! Papa!” I called to them. I was helpless. I called, over and over. I wandered in a circle around the crowded plaza. No one helped the little girl with crying eyes and a desperate expression. No one. Pain and anxiety crossed into me. A man exited the mass of people and knelt in front of me. His eyes were warm and kind.
“Are you lost, sweetheart?” He seemed so nice. I nodded. He told me to follow him. I did. He led me down an alley, where a group of men surrounded me. The one man stopped.
“Um... sir? Why did you stop? I thought you knew where Mama and Papa were,” I asked. He whirled on me and slapped me to the ground. After I recovered from the initial shock, I looked up into the man’s eyes. The warmth that had been there had steeled into glazed eyes and a smirk.
“You are to address me as ‘master.’ You’ll be staying with me a while, sweetheart,” he growled. I would have screamed, but my mouth became mute. I would have ran, but my muscles lost there grip. I would have stayed awake long enough to struggle, but my consciousness flew out the window, along with just about everything else for the next few days.
I woke with a strangled start to the morning of crowing. The crows were here for the winter. The clouds hung over, blackening the seven a.m. morning from sunshine. It was going to be one of those days, then. Oh, how I hated days like these.
YOU ARE READING
The Tragic of England
FanfictionDestiny Harvey is the rich kid in town. She lives as normal a life she can with absent parents and a certain disease that makes her lose consciousness every time her emotions rage. On her own, she's fine, but when a certain Brit shows up, things get...
