Ground zero
One punch.
Two punch.
The ground collided with Alora’s body, mud staining her skin and clothing, slowly ripping from movement. A masculine laughter above her before a dark shadow casted down on her.
“Next time, keep that pretty little mouth of yours shut and you would be on the floor kissing my boots again.” He spat, small droplets on her red and purple cheek. “Otherwise, I’ll tell everyone what you truly are.”
He kicked Alora in the stomach, leaving a swift groan from her lips, before walking over her to leave the back of the pub which they fought in, a laugh left his lips . Alora held her stomach before she slowly made her way to her knees, which were bleeding and covered in mud and stone. Her eyes filled with small tears which soon fell into the dry mud which scattered upon her skin, a sob left her lips.
Someone walked out of the splintering door and saw Alora crawling to the bench to pull herself up. They walked over in three quick strides, mud sticking to the side of his worn leather boots and helped Alora to the bench, leaving a small whimper from her lips followed by her lip quivering.
“You shouldn’t let Marlo do this again. He can be a right evil….” They started before Alora interrupted.
“I shouldn’t have mocked him but he shouldn’t have outed me to the whole village.” Alora spoke, slowly sitting on the splintering bench. “Prick on two walkable legs…For now.”
The person, Paddy, checked her knees before he walked back inside. Alora knew he wouldn’t ask question but he knew that Alora’s parents would want to hunt Marlo down. She rose from the bench and limped down the side of the pub. Paddy walked out with a small first aid kit.
”Alora…” He called out before he spotted her walking down the side of the pub. “Alora!”
The market square was filled with stalls selling clothes made from leather and silk which comes from the stretches of Milca all the way to the land of Faltun. Rich smells of spices and meat, chocolate on every surface to enjoy. People stared at Alora as she limped past different stalls, whispers filled the air, new scents filled every surface of the market, new secrets filtered though the people and fabric as Alora got to the row of homes, thatched roofs with small holes within the structure. A small group of women was gathered outside one of the wooden homes, metal cups in their hands, glaring at the pissed off Alora.
“Hey! We don’t accept your kind here!” One yelled. “Fucking leave!You hear…LEAVE!”
Alora stopped mid stride. She glared over, her eyes could break glass. Her hands shook with adrenaline and anger.
“What the fuck did you just say?” Alora barked, just done with people that day. “Come on then…Say it again! Because after the day I’ve had, I don’t mind maiming anyone at the moment. And I’ll be glad that it would be you.”
Alora walked over the group of women, who was clutching onto their black shawls to their chest. They started to whisper before Alora reached them, stopping in front of the group, the liquid from the metal splashed onto the dehydrated floor.
“You heard me. We don’t want your kind around here” One women spoke, Marlo’s mom. “You might taint our supply here.”
She thinks she owns the street, the whole town even. The street bitch people called her. Not to her face but people would say it.
“Only because I have taste in people who I want to date. Please, a river rat has more of a chance of marring me than your son!” Alora yelled. “If your son turned into the most handsome person, I still wouldn’t touch him. Not if you paid me all the gold in the village. Not even if he turned into a women. At least I have standards, unlike you, you bike.”
Marlo’s mom stood close and slapped her around the face. Alora’s hand went to her cheek, and she soon saw red. Her body started to shake with anger. Marlo’s mom laughed and turned round before Alora grabbed her hair, gripping it tighter causing Marlo’s mom to cry in pain.
“Well if I ever have kids, they will learn they can look and not touch when it comes to people. And they will know the meaning of the word no.” Alora barked. “I’m not a sex pest…Unlike your son!”
She pushed Marlo’s mom forward and limped off to her home, which was covered in paint, eggs, flour and other stuff which should not be on a house. Limping into the front garden, she could hear yelling. Yelling about her.
“It’s not her fault that she’s the way she is. If we were around more, then she would be…..”A man voice spoke.
“She would what? Be normal? She’s not normal! She will never be normal!” A female voice spoke. “She was never normal when she turned up. She was never normal when she started to take them lessons with the witch.”
Alora turned round and limped out of the street. She was never going to be normal. She would always be considered the freak of the village, just for liking anyone, and wanting to be in a relationship with more than one person. She was more librating than most of the the village people. She was never going to be accepted.
She reached the small lake which she knew about when she was growing up, bouncing from home to home, village to village. She reached the tree which was in half and was made into a seat. She lowered herself onto the branch, small cries of pains leaving her lips. She looked down at the small cuts on her skin, rips in her clothes.
She reached into the tree branch and pulled out a rusted first aid kit tin with a sewing kit embedded within the metal. She cleaned up each cut, some stung from touch but some cuts were opened from old wounds. She cried from each cut, screaming from the burning and then the stitches which she had to do herself, uneven but sewn shut.
Bird chirping and the sound of the village filled every part of the small world. Alora looked out towards the hills, wild flowers of pink and purple - some used for medical potions and for some of the army to get high before they attack random people in the streets. Alora’s head leaned back on the rough bark, scratching her hairline and let her thoughts fill her brain. Tears filled her eyes, her hands covering her mouth before she let out chocked sobs.
The sound of the village changed from laughter and chatting to the sounds of screams, blood curdling screams. The sound of smashing glass, the smell of burning flesh and the sight of fire started to show. The sound of crackling laughter from above which made Alora look up, tears staining her skin.
“This town will burn! And we will rule every single village!” She yelled from the old broom, a laugh crackled though. “I will win after you shamed me!”
”Oh boy.” Alora spoke to herself. “We are screwed.”
The witch was kicked out of the village. She use to teach Alora basic medicine but she hid a secret, a secret which wasn’t a secret. She wanted to bring down the village for killing her parents and causing her of being a witch. The last part was true but she used her power for bad, many of the town witches used their magic for good. There was doctors, chefs and pub collectors who were good wizards and witches.
But her…
She took it a step to far…
She killed kids when she was making a potion. A potion which would have save kids from typical illnesses and disease but it went wrong. The measurements were wrong. The ingredients were off. She went crazy after the accident. Not everyone would treat her with respect or would happen to listen to her. She didn’t mean to. She started to get paranoid and couldn’t cope. She left one night. No one knew where.
Alora struggled to stand as she saw the witch - Mallory - fly off past the hills. The wind picked up and made the petals of the flowers fall to the ground. Alora limped over, pulling out a silk bag and crouching to the ground, her stitches pulling as she picked up each petal. Each one with healing properties, the only class Alora was successful in.
People crying hard in the village as the witch left a trail of fireballs and death. Alora lifted her head as she retrieved the last petal from a dead collection of plants. She stood up to watch people rushing around, people falling to the ground, no sense of life.
“Oh my god.” Alora spoke to herself. “I need to do something.”
