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Marching past

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I opened the door to the summer cottage still soaping from swimming all day with Max down at the lake. “Mom I’m home” I yelled up the stairs. No reply. “Mom I’m home” I yelled again this time louder still no reply. Where were they I was only gone for a “few” hours? Something was wrong very wrong. I took a few cautious steps up stairs hearing only the familiar squeak of the wooden floorboards. I walked slowly to mom’s room. As I opened the doors I expected to see the pearly whiteness of the walls but all I could see was my family’s bodies on the floor no blood no anything. From the few seconds I had seen the room I know that in this world I was now alone. I had to leave here before more found out every one would think I was going to Demcies and turn in to a Black Marcher killing my own kind but I will not I will do what few do I will stay a White Marcher. I ran out of the house and took down the street, Hours later I was still running my muscles screamed but I pushed on farther through the woods. Tears are ripping away from my eyes, blonde hair whipping at my face the roots of trees are reaching out fro my legs scraping them. I fall from exhaustion I could go no further with out sleep. I close my eyes grateful that sleep was coming so easily tonight. That was one year ago.

My face hits the ground stinging from Mary’s slap my back aches from Joseph’s kick. I can taste the foul flavor of blood forming a pool on the ground at my lips. I can hear the shuffle of Joseph’s feet and the ringing of Mary’s as they walked away. I am a Marcher I am hunted and I am killed I may try to run but someday I will be found and I will meet my demise. Today is not my day I know I will live because I have one thing left in this world to do and that is to kill the one who murdered my family and my life.





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