The deep violet blackness hid any predators that might hide in this
cave. I scooted back until I reached the cracked rock walls, which
rubbed against my back. I looked around, hoping for some light so that I
could see what dangers lurked here.
I could hear my breathing,
hard and rapid. I tried to slow it down. In the background I could hear a
slight whisper of footfalls and breath. I couldn't tell if it was
walking towards me or away from me. I was alone.
My fear
ratcheted as strained to hear the steps. It stood in front of me and I
could feel its warm breath in my face. I reached towards this thing and
felt soft fur on its legs. When I looked into its eyes, the yellow eyes,
I knew it could hear my breath and my heart beat.
It roared. I
screamed. I tried to scoot back farther, but I was trapped between the
thing and the wall. "Mommy, mommy, mommy," I cried, my voice pitched
higher.
I could feel it shake me as I tried to escape and kick.
"Hush, hush, shhh," a soft voice whispered in my ear. "Wake up. Wake up. You are safe here."
I
came to in the darkness. A small candle was in her hand, my aunt was
now my guardian. "Hush," she whispered, as she gently stroked my face.
My
heart calmed. The beat in my head became fainter. I was in the real
world, a world where my parents had been killed for being rebels to the
Roman government. They had been thrown in the gladiator's ring and in
front of my very eyes they had been eaten.
When I had been
released in the streets, my aunt had found me. We had run from Rome.
Still the nightmares haunted me. The panther who had eaten my parents
was a metaphor in my dreams. One day I would come back. I would kill
Caesar and sack his cities.
"I promise," I whispered to the six year old child in the dream.
4 comments:
Ooo, Cyn, that was really good. You make me think about the character's depth and I feel nearly what she feels. Not so funny, but I lost my mother when I was almost 12 and my father was too heart-broken (I'm guessing) to tell us, and we learned it from one of our playmates. Sheesh, don't know why that brought up such memories, but it is a terrible thing to discover.
Have a great week, hon. See you over on Mayan End of world thingy.
Lorelei-- what a horrible thing to happen to you. I don't know where I get these characters-- they just come -- and bother me until I write them--
Very, very effective. YOu've really got a way of getting right into the character's head, even in short pieces like this.
TY William-- a high compliment
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