Crystal

Crystal

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Wed, Oct 8, 2025
Run. Run. Run. Each pounding step reflected her mind signaling one command- run, her childish frame followed the command. Growls, snarls and heavy footsteps ripped through the night as a little girl tore through the undergrowth, her lungs burning with every ragged breath. The moon shone bright illuminating it's gentle hue, bathing everything in a cold glow, every twig that snapped underfoot felt like a signal to the larger footsteps chasing her, her legs screamed with every stride as she leaped through brambles, sweat stinging her eyes but she pushed forward, she couldn't stop; couldn't quit, not until she was out...not until she was free. Thud-thud-thud Leaves crackled and twigs snapped with rapid bursts as the growls grew, dry branches splintered under hurried feet, each crunch echoing in the silence, as she heard the ho, ragged breaths of the hounds almost at her heels. Her breaths tore from her throat, her breathing came in quick bursts-- "hah, hah, hah" -- too loud in her ears, too loud when the men were so close. Each step grew heavier, yet she forced her body forward, the forest blurred past in streaks of shadow and silver light as she hurled herself deeper into the dark. Her legs burned but the trees were thinning. Up ahead, pale silver spilled through the branches - moonlight, an opening, maybe even safety. Her chest heaved with hope as she pushed harder, the shouts behind her were fading, drowned out by the hammering of her heart. Just a little farther, just a few more steps-
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#227
strongwilled
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Certainly they could trust that those in power ultimately had the best interests of the people in mind, right? ~~~ Luna slouched low in her seat, staring at droplets of water that ran diagonally down the window of the bus. The sky was a flat, depressing grey and the incessant, soaking rain left her constantly chilled. It was a typical "liquid sunshine" day in the Pacific Northwest. They drove past a single tall scraggly tree on top of a hill shrouded in mist. The creepy tree was full of screaming crows. How could she hear them from inside the bus when she couldn't even seem to hear the voices of the kids around her? Geez, that was an awfully freaking dark image. She shivered and looked away. What did they call a group of crows again? Right, a murder of crows. Perfect. The weather was certainly the only thing that was typical these days, although you'd never know it by looking around the bus at most of the kids as they sat joking and gossiping with each other just like they had before... before that day everything had changed. Idiots.

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