![]() Chapter 3A Chapter by Sarah W. FrenchIt has been three days since I was put in this tiny, poor excuse of a cage. In that time little children have turned me back and blue with they’re constant prodding. The only food I’ve been giving is rotten Boysenberries, peaches, and tomatoes. Throwing them at me has become a sport for all ages. Fife left the day after the locked me up. He couldn’t even look me in the face. And today is the day the Noble Ones will arrive. Today is the day my fate is sealed. It is early morning when the villagers start to prepare for the arrival of the Noble Ones. Hovels need to be swept clean. Leaves are laid down on the path they will take to reach me. Children’s faces are washed and there best cloths are restored. My Father being the thoughtful man he is came over to me and dropped a bucket of water over my head. His only explanation being, “Can’t have the Noble Ones faint because of your stench.” By lunchtime the village is cleaner then it has been in my entire life. Part of me is proud that they did all of this in less then a day but mostly I’m just terrified of what is to come. Soon we hear the sound of trumpets. A small boy runs through the town yelling the arrival of the Noble Ones. They ride down the dirt paths in a carriage. It’s rather large, white with black trim and gold accents. It stops in front of my cage and I stumble trying to get up. Their servant gets down and bows at the door as he opens it. A young man and woman step out. She is Princess Malka and she is a tall striking youthful women. She is eighteen and has long blond hair. Her skin is nearly translucent because she almost never goes out side. Princess Malka is the youngest Noble One and I will be the first twisted one she ever sentenced. The man is her slightly older brother.
At age twenty Prince Heinrich is strong, tall, and fierce. He has made it his
mission in life to destroy every Dark One in the land and one day the world. If
he had come alone I would truly have one foot in the grave already. I
flinch back as the prince bellows, “Lies, lies, lies. All of it is a lie. Of
course you killed someone. That is the ONLY way you could have became a shifter.
You should be killed for your crimes and falsehoods.” The price looks like he wants to shake her. He wants to over rule her and kill me. I know because his fingers keep tapping the hilt of his sword. I close my eyes and sink to the ground. I half whisper half say in my head, “please don’t kill me. Just put me in the cell. Don’t kill me. I never asked for this. I never hurt anyone. I’ve been kind to all of you even when you hated me. Please, please, please, please I don’t want to die.” Prince Heinrich takes a deep breath and walks even closer to my cage. He puts one hand trough and lifts out my head. “Shutup Little Dark One. My sister will be the one to rule today and it seems she doesn’t want to do away with you just yet.” He drops my head and turns to the villagers who I forgot were even there. “Do not fear. The monster this Little Dark One…Kira will be locked up where she can do you no more harm. You can rest peacefully tonight knowing she will be gone from your lives for good.” He takes his sister by the hand and the climb back into there carriage. A tall, muscled man rips down part of my cage and takes hold of my leash. It looks like I will be kept alive for now and it seems that I will be walking all the way to my new penitentiary. I look back and see my Mother and Father standing together and I know I shouldn’t but I yell out anyway, “Mama, Papa, I have always loved you but in this moment I fear you and this town. I never meant to hurt anyone but you have all condemned me!” And with that my guard yanks my leash closer and drags me off to my new home complaining, “Why can’t you just be contented you’re still breathing?” © 2012 Sarah W. French |
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3 Reviews Added on July 5, 2012 Last Updated on July 6, 2012 Author![]() Sarah W. FrenchPAAboutI won't be publishing all my poems on here but I am putting them on my tumblr. Please check them out. I'm a 16 year old girl who mostly writes poems. I have been verbally bullied and use poetry t.. more..Writing
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