Start of New Short Story (work in progress)

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I gazed longingly out at the night sky; my vision obscured by my swollen eye-lids and the wrought iron bars. The light from the stars and moon cast a large rectangle of ethereal light over my naked body, bruises and long rivulets of dried blood standing out in stark contrast against my milky-white skin. The moon was full, an omen that was special for my supposed kind. But for me, this night held only one special meaning, the eve of my death.

I lay down wincing as my sore muscles and bruised skin grazed off the rough stone surface and thought about my life before the day of the accusation. A simple but pleasant existence, full of boredom with some quick flashes of excitement, full of hopes and dreams for something better. I had loved to read when the opportunity arose. When Pa would go to market and was in a particularly giving mood or was trying to apologise for losing his grip on his temper and his fist’s restraint he would sometimes bring me back a book, usually a novel to escape in and lose myself in the life of another. I could usually forgive him... almost. And now those hopes and dreams would never come to pass. Now I would never read another book. I wouldn’t even see another moon.

I tilted my head back allowing my gaze to return to the glowing orb in the dark sky and shook my head bitterly, wincing as the frown which creased my brow irritated the hastily stitched wound on my forehead. “Wouldn’t do to have the ***** die before her time,” he had said, his smile not quite reaching his eyes as he winked at his men while I lay cowering, barely conscious on the floor, my curiously unhurt feet curling as the pain of the needle and thread passing through my skin registered on my forehead. My hair was dank with sweat and blood, my eyes fluttering constantly against the flow of blood from my forehead. It was a belated courtesy of whichever god was in that room and had witnessed the brutality, the snarling faces and heard my screams that I fell unconscious as he pulled the stitches tight at the end. I didn’t have to abide the agony of them picking me up and taking me to my cell.


  1. dawesbr's Avatar
    Ooho, interesting. I like it a lot, but if you really want people to read it I recommend putting it in the Creative Writing forum, inside Artwork & Creativity.
  2. Burrich's Avatar
    Well didn't get any comments the last time I put something there... well one but on a different thread.

    I might post it there when I'm finished .