Her silvery grey wisps of hair glistened against the light of the blazing fire. The unforgiving flames crackled. Everything burning in its path. The young girl ran from the flames, her cheek flushed and rosy from the scorching heat.
The girl, whose name was forgotten, sprinted through the dark haunting forest. The trees seemed to whisper in the wind, resulting in shivers which rushed through her. She lifted her head up high to see the smoke glide with the angry roaring wind. The puffs were embracing the surrounding environment causing a thick blanket of smoke to cast shadows over the trees.
Her heart raced, eyes were watering and her breathing was heavy. The girl’s home was gone, burnt to cinders. Her expression was grim. She had green eyes that displayed heartbreaking agony, raw anger and deep sadness.
She had nowhere to go, a girl with a lost home and no family. Everyone was dead. The school teachers, the children whose screams of joy seemed to echo through the memory. Doctors, farmers, shopkeepers and politicians. Old Mrs. Rose from Aven St who gave the kids gifts and food all year round was gone, so was Doctor Hilton who treated even those who couldn’t afford it, who weren’t legally allowed the treatment. Daphne Swayer who always babysat the little kids... Everyone. Gone. Lost. DEAD.
The young girl ran aimlessly through the trees, her lungs hurt and her feet. She was so tempted to just stop. To let the pain take over and the flames to take it away but what good would that do for her home? Who would spread her people’s legacies? Tell their stories? She had to live. She just couldn’t die. She shoved branches out of the way, stumbling now and again. A tree branch fell just as she past, it brushed her hair, she felt the heat radiating off of it. It burnt and tickled her skin, leaving a sensation of pain and awe. Her mind wandered until feeling reached her, pain and hurt was felt once more. She could feel the pain. The burning. The tinge of burning fell irritated her nose.
An eerie scream escaped her dry cracking lips. Her hair had caught fire; it danced with the silvery strands so gracefully. Tears swam in her glazed eyes as she fell to the hard warm ground, dirt was between her nails and the stones scrapped her skin. The girl felt dizzy, she felt a wave of strange blurry blackness shadow her vision. She breathed deeply, inhaling the thick smoke before all had gone black and the delicate silvery grey head fell quickly to the ground, bouncing roughly at impact.
Blood dripped from her head, small beads of the red liquid clumped in her hair. The girl’s skin had become a frightening ghost white. Her usually vibrant hazel eyes were dull and ashen. She was dying.
The girl pried her heavy eyes open and scanned the surrounding area, the fiery embers shot into the hazy air like lanterns dancing in the starlit night sky. Her body slowly relaxed. She closed her eyes again; enjoying the numbness was seeping into her and taking over. She let out her last breath, forming a word in the midst of the mayhem, “Impossible...”