Free

I walked slowly and steadily. I heard the crunch of the leaves against my worn, leather boots and the familiar swish of my dress and cloak. I heard the crowd laughing and talking, as if nothing was wrong, as if nothing was going to happen. But something bad was happening. Why didn't they feel it the way I did? Why didn't they cry and shake the way I did when I heard the news? Why did they shrug this off their shoulders and turn their heads? Where was their love? Though they were ashamed, Clark's family merely tried to blend in. They acted as it wasn't there son.

I approached the mob, calmly, but even my relaxed presence sent a chill through the villagers. Little boys and girls' laughter fell silent at my footsteps, and they shrunk behind their mothers, invisble amoung the eldest. Drunk man openly laughed, others unaware. My family, shocked. Horrified and humilated, they were. My mother, so beautiful, looked sick to her stomach, with silent tears sprinkling the front of her dress. My father and sister were both silent, ashamed of my relation with Clark.

I was disgusted by them. Disgusted by their expressions, whispers, and gossip. What would they say afterwards? Would they cry out in despair, deeply regretful or push the memory down and cover the evidence with smooth response and happy faces? I did not think of the things other would say. I only thought of the present, only of Clark.

As I walked up to the post, I took in my surrondings with love and hatred all at the same time. How I would miss my silky blue cloak, so soft against my pale skin. I would miss the smoky smell of winter that was intertwined with the rough wind, that tangled my hair. I would miss the goats running about the musty hay and logs, bleeting happily. But most of all, I would miss the tree. The tree I knew so well, just beyond the post. I could see it so clearly it almost hurt. I did not look away. I pulled every memory of the familiar, weathered bark close, smooth and soft against my bare feet. I remember climbing the chaotic clump of branchs, enclose, but free. Free from the village. I would reach the sky and taste the gray clouds. I would only look at the grey sky, so prefectly blended with puffy white clouds, all tinged a wintr'y pink. With Clark, I would watch the sunlight, bright orange in the early dawn, drape itself lazily over the village. It gave the woods and village an innocent glow it did not deserve.

"What do you want woman?" Drew said roughly and rudely, after all he did know my name. He was my good friend. His glare did not touch his eyes. He was abashed of he was about to do to me and Clark. This was his job, awful as it was, but I still resented him. I stopped myself from running toward him and slapping his tanned skin, from pushing him to the ground. He displayed his sword impressivly, obvisouly trying to scare me off. I merely smirked.

"I have an offereing for the sorceror, something you won't be able to resist," I said cooly.

"What would that be?"

"A witch."

I heard the intake of the crowd, and my mother's muffled cry. I had no witch. It was her own fault, the village's fault for believing in such. My heart beat faltered and thudded against my chest unevenly and too quickly. I held my stance, with my chin high, almost mocking the villagers. The wind slapped my hair back and I noticed the animals stir, reading the tense atmosphere around them. That was something only Clark and I had ever noticed.

Drew did not speak. Instead, he grabbed me by the arm and hooked my the post. The crowd outbursted in rage.

"No!" I heard Clark and my mother scream over and over again. I wanted to call to them, but I couldn't.

"Kill them both!"

"Rid us of this evil!"

"Just finish them, Drew," an embarrased and impatiet voice called. My clamped eyes flew open in shock. My own father.

"Take me instead! Please! No, Piper! I love you." On the last words, Clark's voice broke and something snapped inside of me.

I wanted to be with Clark in happiness, but all I really longed for was freedom. That was all I craved, all I needed. With a slash I withdrew my sword and everyone stepped back in terror. But I didn't need to cut Clark loose, Drew had. He yelled for us to go and never return. I held onto to the last whisper of his smile as I ran. At once, panice began. Screaming rang out to kill the witch, to kill Clark. But they wouldn't. I had been surviving for so long, I had forgotten what I was surviving for. Clark had turned another way, and was no where to be seen. My heart tightened at a horrific thought, but I willed myself not think that. I would find him. I ran throught the chaos, dodging arrows.

At last, I found his warm arms, and met his chocolate brown eyes, but I couldn't savor the moment for long. In silence, we ran out of the village, and through the woods. I jumped and leaped over trees, and sprinted the entire way, laughing. I don't remember how long we ran, but I never lost my breath and Clark's hand. I ran, laughing with my hair blowing around, drunk with freedom. It didn't matter where we ran. Our future wasn't a concern. We enjoyed the present, happy last.