Fire and Ice

Chapter 1- Running away

So chapter 1 of my new story! Exciting! I hope you like the first chapter. :)

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I huddled in a corner watching a horror movie happening around me. My 14 years of life flashed before my life, the joyful memories of being in Thordon, our home town. The sweet memories of running with friends around the thick woods with the slight fear and excitement of getting lost. The time I remember when me and my parents when to visit a neighbourly village. The sweet and spicy smells, the rushing of people getting reading for the daily market. The moments that were sucked from my life in a few seconds by the kings soldiers. I wished I could have helped them but I swore to my parents that I would not interfere not matter what. It would be so easy, killing them myself. It sounds extreme and absurd, a 14 year old killing soldiers. But people underestimate me so much. No one would ever understand me, what I am capable of. 

The soldiers searched for another few minutes, just missing me by a meter. "They are all dead." One called to the others. "Even the teenage girl?" "Yes." The soldiers said to each other then walked out of the door. My home had been turned upside down in search and destruction of my family. They had been looking for me, succeeding killing the rest of my family they had assumed they had killed me. I slowly crept out in to the dining room and suddenly I released that when the soldiers knew they hadn’t killed me, this was the one place they will come to look. I rushed up stairs and quickly grabbed a bag from underneath my bed. Luckily my room hadn’t been destroyed in the killing of my parents. I grabbed my remaining memories from bedroom and then headed to my mothers and fathers room. I pained me enormously to go in, but my mother said that she had left me some items in her cupboard. I walked slowly into their room, carefully treading on the faded carpet. I walked over to the cupboard, slowly feeling the carved handle and then opening it with my free hand. A few of my mother and fathers clothes hung up but in the far corner sat a small black bag. I quickly snatched the bag up and headed back downstairs.

I supplied myself with food drink for at least a week and searched for a knife for protection. I had a last quick look for any other essentials before quietly going over to my parents bodies. A pool of blood surrounded them and their stab wounds showed. I hugged them each and whispered good bye. I was forced out of the house by the sheer pain and agony of the events of earlier. 

Once I reached the woods and was sure that no one saw me, i stopped by a big tree and sat down. The ground was dry and crisp, glowing in the sun. I reached into the black bag my mother had left me and pulled out a small envelope. I opened it and saw my mothers handwriting on the piece of parchment.

Dear Elisa,

I assume now you are reading this me and your father are dead. We hope you did not try and kill the soldiers, exsposing what you are capable of. You must flee the house as soon as possible. The soldiers will no doubtly be back to check again. You must get food supplies for the journey ahead. You can find water on the way, in the river north of the town. There should be a town furthur north from there. That is the best place to go.

Now, I have left a black bag in my cupboard with a few things that will help you on your way. To collect the water supply there is a small wooden bowl and a few small blankets to keep you warm. Under no circumstances should you start a fire while travelling. 

We both hope you the best in your journeys and wish you the best. One last thing, if anyone should ask your name and they will , do not use your real name. It is up to you what you choose, but do not use something that resembles your name. 

Your dear mother and father, Lisa and Peter Stone

P.S We have also put in your fathers hunting knife, in case you are attacked. Do not expose yourself to the soldiers unless as an absolute last resort. 

A tear ran down my face and landed on the writing as I folded the letter up and carefully placed it in the bag. I reached in again and this time pulled out my fathers delicately designed and carved knife. I remember him using it for hunting. The blade had a cover on it, to stop me from cutting myself. I carefully examined the handle, admiring the time someone must have spent on carving and decorating this handle. I slipped it back into my bag and then remembered I had limited day time. I had to find a small town or somewhere to get some rest for the journey ahead tomorrow.

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So, chapter 1? What did you think? I would love to hear your thoughts and I would really appreciate a fan, vote and comment! Thank you! :) x