This was the thirteenth village that I had stayed in since the
split. Yet here I was running for my life.
I was hoping to get back to my home, just to look through the
window to make sure that they were still there, not knowing that
the people that had been with me for 9 years (half of my miserable,
lonely life) would be so heartless as to try to turn me into the
guards.
My heart shatters with each step I take further away from
my family. Ducking into an alley, tears streaming down my cheeks, I
realize that they, the only people in the world that I thought
might still love me, don’t.
“Get Lilyanna,” they yell to each other as they
pass my hiding spot. The smell of excrement and rotten food fill my
nose, the noxious gasses have no affect on me for I feel
nothing.
A few minutes later I emerge from my hiding place, long golden
blonde hair and pale face covered by the long, black hooded robe
that I wear. Wandering down the rough cobblestone street staring at
the white paint falling off the buildings in strips, attempting not
to draw attention to myself as I plan how to slip out of the city
for the last time. The tears still streaming like rivers down my
face.
