Prologue

Prologue

A Chapter by Konojolras

Dusty walls loomed over a young woman sitting on an old, tiny cot. She tilted her head with curiosity as she watched a spider silently making its way through the growing web in the corner.

It wasn’t a decent home in any way, for it was an unkempt, filthy and long-forgotten attic an old woman had decided to put up for rent. The aged, rotting, wooden floor cringed, threatening to break at the tiniest shift of weight upon it, and the cold dampness of London’s autumn showers seeped in through the bricked walls of the miserable niche. Cold and darkness reined the place, the only light source of the room being a small, cracked window in the ceiling which allowed faint rays of pale, cold sunlight to dimly light up the sombre room.

Long, dark strands of wild, curly hair fell over her face as she threw herself down on the cot; a faint, pleased smile formed on her lips despite her surroundings being engulfed by such melancholic gloom.

In many ways, the place reminded the young girl of her old home back in Madrid; small, cramped, and old. However, she was no longer in Spain. After four years of arduous work, of sweat, pain and bitter tears, she had managed to move over to England, like she had dreamt of for what had seemed like an eternity.

Looking up at the window, she extended her small, dainty hand as if yearning to reach out to the skies and take a grasp of the light before it was completely consumed by the dark clouds anticipating the upcoming storm. London had a peculiar light to it. It was a striking contrast to her homeland. Unlike Madrid, where the golden sun tinted the skies of warm, rosy, lively colours, London had more of a grey scale, silvery palette to it, cold yet mysterious,  with a wistful beauty to it.

Her small hand seemed to acquire a ghastly glow under the faint sunlight. She closed her eyes after contemplating it for a while, letting her mind wander off into warm memories, the laughter, the anger, the lingering touch of a farewell embrace.

Rain drops began pounding softly at the window, water filtering through the crack and dropping on her forehead; suddenly broken out of her haze, she opened her eyes and quickly scrambled out of bed. She knew she had someone to find.  After four years had fleetingly passed by, she couldn’t allow any more time to slip through her fingers.

She shoved her thick hair under an old, newsboy cap and slid her hand into the pocket of the old, worn-out trench coat she was wearing, taking out the little pocket money she had left and sighed, disheartened at the sight of 20 mere shillings.

Better get working soon. She told herself, biting her lower lip as she grabbed her umbrella.

Opening the door, she quickly walked down the steep stairs, which eerily moaned under her weight. She passed through several other rooms, hearing cries, groans and fights, all dreadful things she was all too familiar with. A cold downpour greeted her as she opened front door. Taking a deep breath, she opened her umbrella before venturing into the rainy streets of London.



© 2014 Konojolras


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Added on April 7, 2014
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Author

Konojolras
Konojolras

Medellin, Antioquia, Colombia



About
Camila Eusse, also known as Kono, is a young child from the strange and mysterious Colombian lands. Born in September 20th 1997, she absolutely loves reading, drawing, baking, and writing; although he.. more..

Writing