The Battle of Abraham High-Prologue

May 11, 2011
By RhiRhi.A. BRONZE, Mississauga, Other
RhiRhi.A. BRONZE, Mississauga, Other
3 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
"Men get arrested. Dogs get put down." -Rorschach/Walter J. Kovacks, Watchmen (2009)

Her stomach lets out a low mumble. She shivers, the cold hitting her wet body like ice and the rain feeling like bullets on her exposed head of dirty orange hair. She scurried down an alleyway, the thinly curled strands feeling as heavy as lead. She felt weak and scared.
The only thing she has left of her parents is the trench coat she covers herself with and her mother’s stone pendant laced with gold and traced with silver on each chain. She ran her thumb over the writing on the back: My love, my one, my only daughter-- From Papa. She grips the trench coat, mixing herself with the feeling of her father’s arms around her once again, only for it to be the arms of the brown, worn out coat.
Her eyes beginning to water, she ignores the feeling and continues walking. The streets were nothing but dead animals and unidentifiable food on this murky afternoon. The smell made her nose cringe, even after living in such horrid conditions. She tries breathing in, only having to taste the disgusting odor. She entered into another street, scuttling down the sidewalk and weaving through strangers. Suddenly she stopped, hearing the pit-pat of the rain on a small area of warmth and dryness. She looks up slowly to see a young woman, a sentimental look on her face.
“Are you okay, sweetheart?” she asks over the rain, through her bright red lips.
The child could only shake her head, her voice gone from both fear and astonishment at the caring tone of the woman.
“I’m Bonnie Young. You can call me Ellie. Do you have a place to stay?”
She shakes her head again.
“Well now you do,” She wrapped an arm around her, continuing to walk.
Her eyes-one a pool blue and the other emerald green- went wide with thankful astonishment and a broad, gracious grin stretched across her small, peachy-pale face.
"What's your name, sweetheart?" Bonnie gently held the girl close.
"A—Audrey-Blythe Wolfe," Audrey's voice was hoarse from dehydration.
"Well, Audrey. What could've made you live on the streets?"
"I—it's a long story…"
"Family, enemies, death…"
Bonnie gave Audrey's shoulder a comforting squeeze, "Who died?"
"My parents,"

The author's comments:
This is an updated version of my prologue :D

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