Chapter One-SandA Chapter by sonnetmoonAnna journeys through a desert.The horizon bled out into the landscape. Flecks of amber and crimson light danced alongside each other. Anna could hear the Ghost whispers carried by the desert wind.Her face was drenched with sweat. Everything had died along time ago.
Yet she stood there. Unmoving. For an unknown period of time. She would be rich if sand was as precious as gold. Anna scooped up a handful. She felt the roughness of each grain against her palm. In the very distance she could see an African Village. Anna started to stuff her bag with sand. Her bag was now full. She ran her tongue along her cracked lips. A metallic taste entered her mouth. The humidity was unbearable.God seemed to be punishing her. However she wasn't going to give up (Not yet anyway).
She wandered for miles and miles. It gave her a chance to reflect. Her original intention had not been clear at the start. Maybe it was because she felt guilty. Anna wasn't exactly a moral role model. Neither did she claim to be. After all she was human. She remembered learning about the unfortunate in school. How one person around the world would die every second. Most people have forgotten the suffering souls of Africa. Anna wasn't like most people. She had found her true purpose in life.
Dehydrated and tired, her legs began to feel weak. She wondered if her parents would be looking for her. Her mother had a tendency to become neurotic. Tears began to taint her burnt skin. She was getting closer to her destination. The veil of night was approaching fast. After many hours she found a large rock. Anna walked over to it and sat down. She tilted her head and gawked at the stars above. Anna became transfixed with their beauty.
She allowed her head to droop. Sleep would soon claim her. Her conscious sate of mind was slowly ebbing away. Eventually she was engulfed in her own eternal abyss.
***
"Daddy can I help?" her little hand tried to grab the paintbrush. Her father picked her up and placed her on the stool. He then handed her a brush. Anna dipped it in the paint and started covering the fence with it. Once they had finished they went inside to drink lemonade. Anna noticed her fathers sad expression. He was smiling yet his eyes portrayed emptiness.
"What's wrong daddy? why don't your eyes smile?" she questioned. For a brief moment he didn't say anything.
"People cant always be happy" His voice sounded delicate. Almost fragile.
"Why?" Anna's continued sipping on her lemonade.
"If I took away your toys would you be happy?"
"No I would be very mad" she pouted. Her father playfully pinched one of her rosy cheeks.
"Do you understand now?" Anna nodded her head. Her father collected their empty glasses. The sound of her mothers voice echoed in the house. Her mother walked straight passed her.
"John why has she got paint all over her?" her mother shouted. Anna covered her little ears. She hated it when people argued.
"Daddy was only letting me help. Leave him alone. Your the reason why Daddy is unhappy" Anna slammed her small fist on the table. Her mother remained speechless. In a matter of minutes her mother left the room.
Her father walked over to her and ruffled her hair. Anna smiled back at him. ***
Anna's breathing was now erratic. Her dream about the past had been so real. She dreamt about her father often. Many of her happy memories included her father. Anna remembered the day that he died. She remembered the nights when she couldn't fall asleep. Insomnia. Her mother married a year after his death. The trip to Africa was meant to bring the family together.
She knew that there was a possibility she could die in the desert. Deep in her mind she wasn't afraid of death anymore. She felt her father watching over her.
Reluctantly she got off the ground. She only had a few more miles before she reached the African Village. Anna barely had any energy left to continue. After many hours of walking she eventually arrived. The locals stared at her. She hated the scrutiny of their gaze. Yet this did not discourage her. She carried on walking until she reached the local fountain. The cool liquid soothed her dry throat. her frantic drinking caused water to spill out the sides of her mouth. Never in her life had she valued water so much. © 2013 sonnetmoonAuthor's Note
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StatsAuthorsonnetmoonUnited KingdomAboutWe live in a dystopian world. Malice is my muse. Modern society is what inspires me.Writing is my freedom. more..Writing
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