Post by Ithan on Feb 14, 2011 3:01:02 GMT -5
Small train tracks from her tan boots scraping across the hard sand trailed behind her as she was being dragged. Blood from newly opened wounds were also in the mix, also making their marks on the soil just one last time. Yes, just one more time, she knew she was going to die; whether or not Desmond was going to be the one end her was the question. Her wounds were far to great a this point to even think that there was a way of surving this, and even if she stood a single chance, what was the cost of returning home like this and never being able to do anything for yourself again?
If not for what had happened to her, she would have chuckled at the contemplation of her death like this.
From the corner of her eye she saw red ball bounce by, a child stopped dead from the sight, green eyes and copper dirty face, mouth agaped. The little girl wouldn't ever understand, or maybe one day she would, either way, she'd be angry. Her mother came and dragged her back into the house hoping to earse everything the child had seen. But a child can't ever unsee what they have seen evn if they can't remember, it lingers and haunts thete memories, thier dreams...what you see as a child effects the adult you'll become.
She wanted to smile to wave goodbye but she was too weak and before i could force my face to listen to the command she was gone and she was already being dragged around the corner to market place. This is how they did things, they wanted everyone to know she was here, and they wanted everyone to know you were going to die. She groaned as stones were being thrown at her a;ready worn and beat body but she couldnt run, she couldnt avoid them. One of the men shouted at them to stop and they were only meant to watch. The rocks stopped.
She looked up at the man for an eight count through swollen hazel eyes. The dark curls, the unfamiliar beard and his pained look...Desmond. For the last 7years they had been very lucky to have each other as best friends. She couldnt understand how he was on the other side.
The divorce was rough on him...Lyla had always loved him. She was always so patient with Desmond as Vera had been with her. She should have known something was wrong with him them, but with the ones you love, you tend to try to try and ignore thte faults in them. When Lyla said she had had enough and that Desmond, wasnt Desmond anymore, that he wasnt himself anymore...she felt for the man. If you didn't wear the uniform, you wouldn't understand. Ever. It was hard to be gone for so long and see all the things you see and to be same person. Her and Vera were there to comfort him then...she wondered if that was just another lie that he expertly weaved as well.
She let her mind drift into those thoughts of how things used to be again; trying to figure out what was real and what wasnt but it merely made her stupid. He had always been there for her and her for him...and now she hated him, he used her.
'Oh Desmond, how you have betrayed me so...'
Battered and bruised, broken and used, she was dragged through the streets of the slums for the millionth time it seemed but this time she was actually clothed in her uniform. She knew death was coming and it tasted like metallic salt. Blood.
If not for what had happened to her, she would have chuckled at the contemplation of her death like this.
From the corner of her eye she saw red ball bounce by, a child stopped dead from the sight, green eyes and copper dirty face, mouth agaped. The little girl wouldn't ever understand, or maybe one day she would, either way, she'd be angry. Her mother came and dragged her back into the house hoping to earse everything the child had seen. But a child can't ever unsee what they have seen evn if they can't remember, it lingers and haunts thete memories, thier dreams...what you see as a child effects the adult you'll become.
She wanted to smile to wave goodbye but she was too weak and before i could force my face to listen to the command she was gone and she was already being dragged around the corner to market place. This is how they did things, they wanted everyone to know she was here, and they wanted everyone to know you were going to die. She groaned as stones were being thrown at her a;ready worn and beat body but she couldnt run, she couldnt avoid them. One of the men shouted at them to stop and they were only meant to watch. The rocks stopped.
She looked up at the man for an eight count through swollen hazel eyes. The dark curls, the unfamiliar beard and his pained look...Desmond. For the last 7years they had been very lucky to have each other as best friends. She couldnt understand how he was on the other side.
The divorce was rough on him...Lyla had always loved him. She was always so patient with Desmond as Vera had been with her. She should have known something was wrong with him them, but with the ones you love, you tend to try to try and ignore thte faults in them. When Lyla said she had had enough and that Desmond, wasnt Desmond anymore, that he wasnt himself anymore...she felt for the man. If you didn't wear the uniform, you wouldn't understand. Ever. It was hard to be gone for so long and see all the things you see and to be same person. Her and Vera were there to comfort him then...she wondered if that was just another lie that he expertly weaved as well.
She let her mind drift into those thoughts of how things used to be again; trying to figure out what was real and what wasnt but it merely made her stupid. He had always been there for her and her for him...and now she hated him, he used her.
'Oh Desmond, how you have betrayed me so...'
Battered and bruised, broken and used, she was dragged through the streets of the slums for the millionth time it seemed but this time she was actually clothed in her uniform. She knew death was coming and it tasted like metallic salt. Blood.
Congrats grimn! You're in the real mode, now. I've no doubt that you'll surprise yourself on just how tough and mature you can be.