Dead Skin

August 10, 2011
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“No! No, please, please stop! Have mercy!” Tears streamed down her young, sun kissed face, latching onto the feathers in her dark braided hair. She felt her knees hit the dirt ground in desperation. Her hands rushed to hold her face in attempt to cover her dry sobs. Her father stood unafraid facing the strange white men, determined to protect the tribe. Their weapon, which seemed to be molded from a shiny type of hard rock, was just inches away from his beating heart. She clutched the woven dream catcher which hung from her neck, praying to the spirits that the luck would guide them.
An ear shattering bang erupted from their shiny device. A rush of galloping horses left in one quick swoop, leaving her alone with her still father. She knelt by his body as the thick blood flowed into her dress. The dark liquid soaked the deer hide which was once so clean, so undisturbed. The deer that clothed her slim body did not choose to die, not for her. It did not choose for to be slaughtered to supply food for the people she did not know. She did not want for her skin to be ripped off her very bones, only to have it ruined by this endless red river.
She cried into the sleeve of his shirt until she herself moved no more.

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JoPepper said...
Sept. 6, 2011 at 5:53 pm
Ohhh so sad.  That was really good,it was real short but it really worked out that way!!!! :D
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