A Little Girl

November 1, 2011
By bloomoo BRONZE, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
bloomoo BRONZE, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
2 articles 0 photos 2 comments

Favorite Quote:
I'm an optical illusion.

A little Girl wearing an old sundress sits in the dark. She is scared, her heart is thudding throughout her body, rattling her cold fingers which are clutching another hand tightly. Her mouth is dry and her eyes are wide open. The hand she holds to her heart belongs to a boy of the age 15, He is lying face down on the cement floor with his right arm awkwardly outstretched to the little Girl. His whole body is battered and bruised.
Throughout the cellar room, the sound of rat scurries infiltrates the silence as they look for the fresh scent of blood that still lingers in the air. The Girl gives a jump, startled; she catches her breath, pulling the boy’s hand closer to her as she drags herself next to the damp wall and swallows air, then lets out a shaky breath.
Her eyes dart around, trying to breach the darkness that shields her eyes. She thinks there is a way out, but she is scared of the dark, and knows there are Others watching her. It is not safe, at least not yet. In one way this is good, it means she will keep believing She and the Boy will escape, she will keep thinking her brother is just resting and not dying, She will keep thinking.
The Others are coming for her now, she can hear their steps coming closer to the outside door. A pause, then a jingling noise as a key is turned and the door creaks open, a gleaming yellow light slips into the room covering the little Girl’s pale face as she blinks, squinting to see what would appear behind it. A group of five boys in rags march in, their eyes hold a ravenous look as they drink in the sight of the two hostages and lick their lips. One of the boys smiles, his teeth are yellow and decaying, his hair has already started to fray, and he is covered in dust. They all have guns. The little girl sniffs, the room is rank with the smell of cooking flesh. She wipes her nose.
The sound of another’s footsteps approaches the door, this boy, is beautiful. His hair is still glossy and his teeth are still white everything about him seems to glow, even his red, red eyes. He is the shining star in all that has failed, he is the leader. The five boys beside him are twisted between a feeling of hate, gluttony, fear and lust as this Leader joins them.
The Leader’s steps echo on the ground as they reach the last cell where the Little Girl and fifteen year old boy were placed. The little Girl watches his face, enchanted by his rosy cheeks, and captivated by his red, red eyes. Leader stares at her as she stares at him, his expression, though aloof, still held a soft gentle look, and for a one nano-second, it turned venomous, seething with hate and rage, delight. The little girl gasped, gripping her brother tighter, but never glanced away from Leader’s complexion, too fascinated and horrified to look away.
It was only after she heard the five armed boys walk up to her cell and saw the bars of the cell slide across leaders face did she realize what they’d come for. Only when she felt a tug as the fifteen year old boy fall from her grasp did she look away.
“No.” The boy carrying her brother didn’t turn around. “No,” this time she said it a little louder. Her brother’s arms swayed, his head lulling against the soldiers back. His eyes slightly opened, but barely through their swollen lids.”No, no no no NO.” She yelled. She scampered up tripping over her wobbly legs as she reached for her brother’s hand. She was so close to touching its freezing familiarity, when a sudden pain ripped through her skull and pushed her on to the ground, and skinned her knee. Barely aware of the blood seeping through the side of her head, she reached out once more for her brother, breath coming quickly now.
She lunged at the boy carrying him, landing on his back with a jolt. “What the f-“ she bit his ear, as he came tumbling down, screaming. One of the Others tried to pull her off, but the little Girl’s arms swung wildly flinging into his nose and breaking it. The little Girl, desperate now, ceased her brother arm, trying to pull it to the opening in the cell then to the door of the room. She got midway there before two of the guards took hold her, forcing the little girl to let go of her brother. She screeched and screamed, doing her best to writhe away from her adversaries. At last, someone thunked her hard on the head, and she quit squirming, and moving, altogether. The boys holding her let go as the little girl dropped to the floor and went back to the tall older one lying next to her, dragging him out the door. The Other with the broken nose stopped in front of the little girl, pausing to kick her hard in the stomach until hearing something crack and a groan escape her lips.
“ya’ little s***,” he said, and spitting on her head and turning around to leave. The little Girl’s eyes peeked out, blurry from sweat, blood, and tears, her throat raspy from screaming.
“Chris,” she whispered as tears began to stream down her face, the last thing the little girl saw before passing out completely were the leaders boots.
Now, she was truly alone.

The author's comments:
I wrote this a while back, I wanted to make it into something bigger but i'm still working on that, any ideas?

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