Tuesday, April 17, 2012

Marked (revised).


I stand in my wedding dress, waiting as my friend places the veil over my head. It hangs down over my face, shrouding my vision in a white mist. I turn, smiling at my friend.
“Thanks.”
She nods, arranging the back of the veil.
“You're beautiful.”
I look at myself in the mirror standing in front of me. I look very different then I have looked over the last few months. My white dress hangs gracefully down to the floor and my blond hair is curled and done up in the back. I look down at my wrist, pulling the sleeve down to reveal a scar in the shape of a diamond on my skin. My friend notices me looking at it and puts a hand on my shoulder. She has a scar on her wrist as well.
“Are you okay?” she asked, her dark eyes looking at my blue ones.
I try to smile as I look up at her.
“No, its just...” I bite my lip. “Its hard not to think about it.”
She nods.
“I know... Don't you wish they had something to remove scars?”
I laugh, trying to get my nerves under control. Why am I so scared?
“I wish there was something to remove heart scars.”
Jade places her arm around my shoulders and I lean into her comforting arms.
“Don't think about it right now... This is you're day to be happy, Blair.”
“I know.” I say.
We pull away from each other and she nods.
“Its going to be okay.”
“I know...”
I pull my sleeve over the scar, blinking back tears of sad and happiness. It felt good to be safe for once in my life.

Monday, April 16, 2012

Novel In Progress.


The Marks are the new super power of the world, leaving a trail of blood and destruction in their wake. The Sage, leader of the Rebellion against the Marks has been found and killed, his dreams of keeping America the land of the free are lost. And finally, after over a thousand years of America in power, it has fallen and the Marks have taken over. Their iron fist has choked any uprising from the people... Or so they thought. For as the Marks begin to launch a crushing blow to the already oppressed people, they will come across something they did not expect...
The Sage's daughter, Blair Sage and her friend, Isacar Blackmen. After the Marks killed her parents, Blair struggles to survive and provide for her sister. She has been scared into silent submission to the Marks laws. Isacar, on the other hand, who's father was also one of the leaders in the Rebellion has a very different view on the Marks. He believes things can change if they try. Blair is to scared to believe that, even though her father was The Sage. She will not fight the Marks... Until they take the most precious person away from her: Her sister. Blair is shucked into the realization of what the Marks really do, and what their plans are as she finds out about her mother's tragic past and her father's bitter experience as a Mark. Now she, Isacar and her friends must save their siblings from the Marks. All they know is that the Marks are taking their siblings to a base near the capital, for some unknown reason...
Will Blair find her sister before its too late? Or will she be caught to and be forced into the Marks new way of life.

Friday, April 13, 2012

$6,499.00 dollars...

I have been daydreaming about getting a book published for a long time... And perhaps I even know which story I want published first. And maybe it would be really nice if I finished it this year?
....
But what if I did? Not that there absolutely no way to get it published, but would it not be cool to get my book published like this? http://www.westbowpress.com/Packages/VideoPlus.aspx

*Dreamy sigh*

But what is MOST unfortunate is that it costs $6,499.00 dollars.

...

I do not have $6,499.00. So, if any of you readers have $6,499.00 dollars laying around doing nothing, tell me! :)

Yes, so that's what I've been thinking about... I suppose I shall finish this post then go and find a quiet place where I can finish my book.

Because, I can't get published if I don't finish it.

Haha.

                       Bye!

Thursday, April 12, 2012

Light and Flame

Fires of pain engulfing the flow of things that were once as white as snow.
And the the rain that ran down our walls suddenly stops to fall.
We look around,
Waiting for something better then death.
As the fires of guilt and sin climb our crumbling towers of pride
The showers of rain that once fell from the sky,
They are not to come anymore since we've fallen away from the heights.
We're falling down to the ground,
Hard and unforgiving.
And we start to wonder why this life's worth living.
And as we look up from the ground where we fell,
We see a light shining in a distant land,
We find a sense of longer as our plans are all but gone.
The things we've done,
The sights we've seen,
They're not enough anymore.
All our hearts are broken and they long to sore.
And as the pain of the night slowly drifts away,
We open our eyes,
Hoping to see the light of day.
But broken, we see only dark.
And in our hearts we wish for better things.
Will we dare to believe there's a way then the stinging loss of pain?
We look behind as our walls start to fall,
Crashing down in the wake of a darkening rage.
The halls of fire are coming bright in the sky,
And all the things we thought we had are taken from our sight.
What is left but our thoughts drifting out of time?
All the things we thought were true are not but a lie.
We look ahead and see the light that we all so dread.
We still are holding on to our darkest nights we never should have had.
The light gets closer as are hearts become so cold,
Wishing for a savior in this dark and messed up world.
Then through the light we see His sword in his hand.
He rushes past to fight our enemy with his light in his hands.
We look on amazed by his strength and his light,
Will we not also stand and fight?
And as the pain of the night slowly drifts away,
We open our eyes,
Hoping to see the light of day.
But broken, we still see only pain.
And in our hearts we wish for better things.
Will we dare to believe there's a better way then struggling with the flame?
So we hope and pray,
Not knowing where we are in the dark.
We feel the touch of someone healing our broken hearts,
Can we let go of being friends with the dark?
And as the pain of the night slowly drifts away,
We open our eyes,
Hoping to see the light of day.
And though broken,
We see the light of the world licking up the flame.
And the rain, he lets it fall again.
Will we dare to stay on this path we laid?
Or will we go back to being friends with the dark...







Wednesday, April 11, 2012

Denshier part 2

I felt someone checking my pulse. I groaned and rolled over on my side, opening my eyes slightly. I was laying on the floor of a dark room and a person was bending over me. I stayed completely still, pretending to be asleep. The man removed his hand from my neck and began bathing the side of my head with a wet cloth. I heard him call to another man standing at the door to the dark room, though he was speaking a strange to me.
"Dico dux, est elevare. De vulnus est sanando."
The man at the door nodded then left, holding a gun in his hand. The first man looked at me again.
"Do not move if you wish to live." his ascent was to refined to tell what language he spoke normally. I didn't answer him. Looking down, I saw my leg in a bandage. I moved it around a little, testing it. I winced with the pain.
"I said don't move!" the man snapped, shoving a dagger under my chin. "Do you understand?"
I nodded slightly as the dagger cut into my neck. He removed it and sat there, glaring at me. I looked around with my eyes, noticing the window in the far right wall and the door on the left wall. The only escapes. Suddenly it dawned on me that I had failed Ben. These people... Who ever they were had caught me and I couldn't get to the C.O.D... Not like this. I let a tear roll down my cheek. I had failed my people and now they were going to pay for it. The man watched me intently, his dark eyes watching my every move.
"Are you hungry?" he asked.
I shook my head.
"No."
"Does your leg feel okay?"
I didn't look at him. If he was looking for a conversation, I was the last person to go to.
"Its fine." I lied.
It did hurt, though I'm not sure how it was injured. Maybe it was just burned.I hoped it wasn't broken but that was very likely.
"You will be wise to answer all the Commanders questions, Miss Westen."
I glanced at him. 
"You probably know more then I do." 
"We will see."
The way he was talking reminded me of someone who was reading from a script. He probably had been given a list of questions to butter me up for who ever was going to question me next.
I heard outside the door two voices talking in low murmurs in that same language that the guard had used earlier.
"In captiva loquar... Aut mori." said a low, dangerous voice.
"Inspeximus ejus Dux. Putant non est." another said doubtfully.
"Est!" the low voice cut in."De Hadra ... est."
"Sed unde scis?"
"Aperire ostium."
The door opened and two men dressed in black came in. I sat up slightly, my pulse quickening as they walked towards me. My guard stood and saluted the taller and younger of the two.
"Commander,"
The Commander nodded to him then looked down at me with his piercing black eyes. His hair was brushed back from his face and strapped to his belt was two twin pistols. He was fingering one of the triggers as he looked at me.
"What is your name?"
I looked at the ground, wondering what to say. I finally decided to answer truthfully.
"Beth Westen."
He shot a glance at one of the other men then knelt down next to me.
"Where did Ben tell you to go?"
I tried to cross my legs and look bored, but my injured leg wouldn't move. I sighed and glanced at the Commander.
"I don't remember." 
He leaned forward in my space, pulling out one of his guns.
"Really?"
I suddenly remembered that the paper with directions to Denshier was in my pocket. I slowed my breathing and sat up slightly, leaning against the wall.
"Do you want to see Ben?" the way he said that made me feel sick. They had done something to him, I was sure.
"I'm not sure you do. We tortured him with are newest tools, and you would not recognize him if you saw him now."
I moved back from his face, my eyes wide with horror.
"He is being tortured as we speak. With a word you could stop it, Beth."
He leaned closer to me, shoving his gun in my face.
"I don't know! Even if I did, I would be the last person to talk to..." I trailed off as I felt his breath against my lips.
He looked down at them then back at into eyes.
"Are Cunaind and Lili Westen not your parents?"
"They are, but they never told me anything about what was going on." I rambled out as I watched his eyes roving over me. "They didn't think I could handle it."
"No..." the Commander said, pulling a lock of hair out of my face. "You're to young to handle that information, to immature."
I tried to scoot away from him but my leg wouldn't let me.
"I don't know what you want to know..." I kept lying.
He stared at me for another minute then sat back, barking out orders to the guard.
"Hadra, adducam medicum ad tag Beth."
The guard saluted again then walked to the door. The Commander followed him, leaving one man to guard me. I shivered, rapping my arms around myself. I leaned my head against the wall and closed my eyes, falling into dream.

Monday, April 9, 2012

Denshier Chapter 1

I watched him grabbing weapons off the rack, shoving them into my backpack.
"You've gotta get out of here, Beth."
"But Ben..." I started to say.
He shoved a machine gun into my hands and I almost dropped it, scared to hold it.
"Ben, I don't want to leave."
He glanced at me, pushing some packaged food into a side pocket of the bag.
"That's to bad. We aren't risking our lives so that you can die."
He held a dagger out to me. I looked at it uneasily.
"I don't even know how to fight-"
"Then you learn!" he said, grabbing my hand and pushing it onto my palm. He folded my fingers around it. "Your are only chance."
"What about Them?"
"Them?" he asked.
"Our people..."
He placed a hand on my shoulder.
"They're fighting for our country, just like you need to be doing right now."
"But I'm not fighting, I'm running away." I objected.
"To get help.  Beth... If we don't get help we will die. The C.O.D. will listen to you."
"But I'm only fifteen! Would they not listen to you?"
He shook his hand as he picked up the backpack.
"No, I'm not in charge around here-"
"And I am?"
His face darkened as I said that.
"Your parents just died." he said slowly as if to get it into my head. "They were the King and Queen of Beun and they only had one child, which is you. Don't you get it?"
My hands began to shake.
"But even if I am royal blood... You know so much more about the war and why its going on."
He slung the backpack onto my shoulders.
"I don't decide how politics work, Beth. I only negotiate with them." he placed a folded piece of paper in my gloved hand. "These are the directions to Denshier. When you get there, one of my friends will show you how to contact the C.O.D."
There was a moment of silence as we stared at each other in the gloom.
"What about you?" I asked, putting the paper into my jean pocket.
He placed both of his hands on my shoulders and smiled at me.
"Your just like your dad. He would never leave until he knew everyone was safe." we both heard an explosion outside then a flash of light lit up both of our faces. "I am going to protect your escape. If you do get to Denshier, find someone who looks exactly like me. He's the one you need to talk to."
Another explosion went off and then I heard a scream.
"Thanks." was all I could think to say.
He hugged me, whispering in my ear.
"Its gonna be alright. Get to Denshier."
I pulled away from him, blinking back tears. He nodded and I began to climb the latter leading to the vent in the sealing. I heard him whispering to me.
"Beth, hurry! Don't stop."
I finally crawled into the vent shaft and kicked the latter down. It clattered to the floor and I watched him hide it in a closet. He looked up at me.
"Everything's ready. Shut the trap door!" he hissed as I could hear footsteps coming towards the door of the room.
I shut the door until a only a slit of light was coming through. I watched breathlessly as the door banged open and fifteen men dressed all in black strode in, dragging a few children in with them. I placed a hand over my mouth, my heart pounding in my ears. The men in black shoved the children towards Ben and one stumbled. Ben caught her and steadied her, whispering something. I couldn't make out what he said but one of the guards apparently did. He took a step forward, pulling the girl out of Ben's reach then shoving a gun in Ben's face.
"Where is Beth?"
I felt my hand straying to my gun trigger, but I stopped. Ben had told me to go... How could I leave him?
"Tell us now, or she dies!"
I let the trap door down silently. I had to go to Denshier... I had to get out. I began crawling down the vent as I heard a scream from the room. I stopped and turned, torn between my decision. I heard a crash as somebody was thrown against the wall then Ben's voice.
"She's gone. She's not here!" his tone of voice was telling me to run.
I started moving again, my tears now falling. I pulled my bandana over my mouth and nose to keep the dust and smoke out of my lungs. The building was on fire... I could tell. The heat was coming from above as I heard a crash of timber up above me. I began to move faster, hearing gun shots down the tunnel. My backpack was getting heavy as I looked up and saw a light at the end of the shaft. Suddenly, I heard another explosion and the heat became intense on my back. Before I knew what was happening, the tunnel right behind me gave way and one of my legs was caught in the rubble. I screamed, feeling my leg being burned. The pile was on fire. I pulled my leg out, coughing and sputtering as the smoke thickened around me. I dragged my body along the tunnel, finally reaching the door. I pushed it open and tumbled out. I had rolled out onto a glowing white hallway with shouts and cries coming from my left. Or was it my right? I turned over on my back, grimacing as the pain in my leg steadily grew worse. I felt dizzy as I looked down the highway and saw the doors. Several black shapes were fighting as I heard cries of pain coming from outside. I tried to stand but crumpled to the floor with the agony of my leg wound. I leaned against the glowing wall as I heard more shouts as the door banged open. I jumped and turned but it was to late. A man dressed in black enveloped my vision as I felt strong hands grab my shoulders then my head crash against the wall. I slumped to the floor, unconscious.







Sunday, April 8, 2012

Never Happily After


Here comes the bride,
The bride's dress white,
And her eyes sparkling with joy.
She steps up to the stage,
And places her shaking hands in his.
He smiles at her,
Hoping that she doesn't know.
And she hopes that it isn't so.
Its her love he wants,
He hopes that he can show her that soon.
Here comes another girl.
Her hair shimmering in the light,
The bride turns pale at the sight and asks why?
Another then another line up next to Her.
What has He done?
Was she not enough for him?
But then here comes another man,
And the bride remembers when he had held her hand.
Through the church's door,
Two more men do come,
Lining up to kiss the bride, their love.
Can ether bride or the groom deny now?
Here comes the bride,
Now twenty years later,
Her dress dirty and torn.
She comes to morn her broken heart at the place where she gave it away.
He sits alone,
Staying away from her,
Because he can't tell her how much he loves her.
And their children are gone,
Like the wind that will not stay.
What has the bride and the groom done?
Now, they leave each other,
Not knowing how to redeem their broken hearts,
Alone,
They wish they weren't so,
Sitting alone in the dark.


Saturday, April 7, 2012

Marks


I RE-posted this cause I changed a lot in the story. Enjoy :)


Prologue

He stood at the window, his hard eyes scanning the city. A light went out, then another and another. He turned his gaze to the tall buildings, watching as people went to and fro down the long, black and gray streets. He fingered a knife in his gloved hands, running it against his palm.
The door behind Him slid opened silently. His black cape swished slightly as He turned his head. A man, dressed all in black, stood in the doorway.
“Come, Adar. Make your report.”
Adar walked slowly up to the caped one.
“My Master, Aymeric, America is ours in full.”
Aymeric aloud his servant a smile.
“You did well, Adar.” He said, turning back to the window.
“Your plan succeeded.”
“No,” his Master corrected him. “My plan has just begun. Cand will take Abiodun by force, and the world will love us for it. Jacob will work his way into Dashia, but you, Adar, you will start to reform this land we have worked so hard for.”
Another light went out.
“We have waited so long for this. With the Sage out of the way, nothing can stop the Marks now.” the Aymeric said.
“His death was one of our greatest victories.” Adar agreed.
The Master chuckled. The city below was growing darker.
“Look, what do you see?” he asked.
His servant looked out, seeing the city lights and people.
“I see a destitute country, Master.” he said in a low murmur.
Aymeric nodded.
“This is what war does. But now, we must show the people how good it can be to live under us. Schools, factories, hospitals. The hand of the Marks must been shown.”
“Of course. And they will.” Adar answered, his dark eyes watching the knife that his Master was holding. He set it down on a table.
“Activate CM7.”
Adar hesitated for a second, then bowed his head.
“It will be done as you say, Master.”
He turned and began to walk towards the door when Aymeric's voice stopped him.
“Adar, do all that I have said and you will get your prize... And much more.”
He heard the door close as he kept his eyes on the city outside, watching.

Chapter 1.

                          Blair stirred, opening one eye slowly. She quickly shut it again as sunlight streamed in threw the window like a stern school master wanting her to answer a question. With a great effort she opened both of her eyelids and glared at the old bed sheets they used as curtains. They stirred gently, moved by the wind coming in threw a crack in the windowpane. Bethel, Blair's little sister, lay under it, her thin shoulders shivering under her blanket. Her bed was made up of old blankets, softening the hard wooden
floor. Blair sat up, trying to rub some warmth into her legs. It was a Sunday: A day off of work. Blair was glad that there were days where you could rest from work without being fired. Standing up, she walked over to a black chest at the end of the bed. She opened it. Inside, hers and Bethel's clothes were folded neatly in stacks. She smiled. Her little sister must have done that. Blair picked out her black jeans and a brown tunic. She slipped out of the dress she was wearing and into the clothes she had picked then pulled on her long black boots. Standing in front of the mirror that overhang the chest, she looked at her reflection and saw a tired, sixteen year old girl with her long blond hair hanging tangled around her shoulders, and her blue eyes that had no spark left in them. The mirror had a long crack in it, running from one corner to the other. Blair touched it, running a finger tip down the jagged break. It was a reminder to her of the day she lost her parents. She and her little sister had gone to a friends house for the day, but Blair couldn't remember why. When they had come home that night, the house was empty. Several plates had been smashed on the floor, the chest had been turned over and the mirror had been cracked. That was three years ago and Blair had been left to fend for Bethel, alone. Bethel was five now, thinner then any person should be at that age but Blair was helpless to do anything more then what she had already done. Her job, working at a clothes making factory, paid her every month, but between she and her little sister ran out of food. Blair had pride, that is she did not like begging for anything, but she would for Bethel's sake. She had sold almost everything in the house that wasn't nailed down to pay for food. Blair looked down at the opened chest.
“Has it really come to this?” she asked herself.
Bending down, she carefully took a white dress out, smoothing out the wrinkles in its clothe. It was her mother's wedding dress. It was simple and homemade, but to Blair, it was beautiful. She held it, undecided. The only food left was a package of crackers in the small room they called a kitchen. But this was her mother's dress, a cherished memory. She put it back, thinking that if it really came to it, she would sell it but they were not there quite yet. Grabbing her black leather jacket up from the floor, she put it on, zipping it up. Blair walked quietly over to Bethel and shook her shoulder gently.
“Bethel? Bethel, you need to wake up.”
Her sister sat up sleepily, as her red hair fell over her face. She rubbed her eyes then looked up at Blair.
“Hi, Blair.”
Blair smiled.
“Good morning. You need to wake up so that you can eat...” she was about to say 'breakfast' but then thought better of it. “The crackers we have left before I go to work.”
“But I thought you don't need to go to work today.” Bethel said, looking disappointed.
“I have to do some things for Mrs Blackmen.”
This seemed to wake the younger one up.
“Can I come and play with Ange and Luther?”
Blair helped her up.
“Not this time. I'm not staying at their house.”
Bethel seemed crestfallen, but only for a moment.
“I'm almost done with one of the gloves I'm working on!” she seemed very proud of herself.
“Good, maybe I'll try to sell them next week.”
“Well, I was gonna make them for someone as a surprise.” said Bethel, looking secretive.
Blair patted her head.
“That's fine too.”
Their mother had bought a lot of yarn since she loved to make stuff with it. Bethel had carried this on, growing quite good at it. Blair was impressed sometimes at the things she had made. It helped a little with buying food, but not much. Because they had to find someone who was kindhearted enough to buy one. Blair went over to the kitchen and brought out a package of crackers from the top shelf. She walked back over to Bethel and handed it to her.
“Eat that. I don't have anything else at the moment that you can have...”
Bethel spoke threw a mouthful of food.
“Maybe Mrs Blackmen can give you some of her cheese.”
“Oh, no, Bethel. We can't ask for that. She has more people to feed in her family. She's got herself, Ange, Ben, Luther-”
“And Isacar.” her little sister chimed in.
Blair looked down at the floor.
“Yes, and Isacar... Eat those then start working on your gloves. I'll be back before dark.”
Bethel nodded, watching her older sister walk towards the door. Blair took her belt from the side of her bed. The sheath that held her dagger was attached to it. She checked the dagger. It was a long, curved knife that her father had given her to protect her. She put it back in the sheath and buckled it on. Her jacket was long enough to conceal it. Taking one more look at Bethel, Blair opened the door and walked out, shutting it behind her.
She looked at the sun, fingers of cloud beginning to curl around it. Blair guessed it would rain sometime that day. Setting off down the gray street, Blair hugged herself. It was cold, a late fall day with chilling winds. Several people were walking on the streets too, going their own ways. Blair starred at the ground while she walked, trying to look as unimportant as possible. Trying to get attention was dangerous in the city she lived in, and she guessed most in America.
Three girls, all about Blair's age, walked or stumbled up to her, all leaning on each other and giggling. She recognized one, Wryn, who worked at the clothes factory with her. Wryn smiled and laughed, beckoning Blair to follow.
“Come on, Blair. We're going to The House. Wanna join us?”
All three stopped in front of her. Blair looked at her, shucked at her behavior.
“Wryn, what are you doing?”
Her one time friend waved a carefree hand at her.
“To The House, Blair. Mia says there's gonna be quite the company.”
Mia, the oldest of the three smiled and giggled, blushing. She had a beer bottle in her hand. Blair looked her up and down, not amused. Gently, she took Wryn's arm and pulled her away from the other girls.
“Wryn, what are you thinking?”
She saw the false joy sparkling in her friends brilliant green eyes, which was really fear at being caught in the act.
“These are my friends, Mia and Jen. Is there a problem with that?”
“Wryn! You can't go to The House! What will your mom think? And what if you-”
“That won't happen,” Wryn said knowingly. “Mia won't let anything bad happen to me.”
Blair gave her a long stare.
“I'm gonna have to tell your mom.”
Wryn didn't seem to care about what her friend just said. Blair crossed her arms.
“Don't go, don't tell, because there won't be anything to tell.”
Wryn glared at her, obviously flustered.
“My mom... Left. Don't know where. And now I'm on my own! I gotta do what will get me money.”
Blair was confused. If her mom had left her, why wasn't she sad?
“Wryn... I'm sorry that your mom left you.”
Wryn shrugged.
“Don't be. I'm better off by myself.”
Blair tried to hide her pain at the way her friend was acting.
“Wryn, believe me, living with yourself in charge is not fun. Its just work, and pain, and loss.”
Wryn drew away from her.
“That's because of Bethel. If you didn't need babysit her, you'd be out with the best of us.”
“Doing the worst things!” Blair added, her voice strained with concern.
Mia and Jen were not listening. Mia shared the beer bottle with her friend and called to Wryn.
“Are you coming?”
Blair and Wryn locked eyes for a second then Wryn broke the the spell, walking back towards the other girls.
“Yeah, I'm coming. Really Blair, this is the way to make money.”
Blair shook her head.
“It is, isn't it?”
This seemed to aggravate them, but she ignored them and started to walk away. Mia called after her.
“Oh, come on, girly! Its not like its against the law.”
Blair sighed, hating how helpless she felt. Wryn was only fourteen. Blair knew that Mia had pressured her into going. She had tried to do that to her as well. Blair put a hand on her face, shaking her head. She found herself wondering what it would be like to live like them. Blair's mother had told her that doing something wrong, even if its to save somebody else, is wrong. That's why Blair took a job, to be able to have money without doing something wrong. Blair knew that Mia and the others were being paid for men to use them, and that made her sick. They could not see how wrong that actually was. For them, there was nothing negative about it. If they get pregnant, they can get an abortion for free and they foolishly thought that they were save from abuse since they were at The House. Blair looked to her left. It was a alley, where someone had tried to abuse her. Blair shuddered, recalling that day.
It had been the first day she had worked at the factory. Blair had come away with a bloody finger. She was sewing and the needle had gone threw it. She held it, walking back to her house when she heard footsteps following her. She looked over her shoulder but nobody was there. She past by the alley when a hand reached out and grabbed her. Blair let out a cry of surprise but someone clamped a hand over her mouth and shoved her against the wall. She looked up at a tall man, his dark hair shadowing his face. He held her there with his arms and smiled.
“Well, what do we have here?”
He looked lustfully at her, touching her cheek gently with his hand. Blair had been inching her hand towards her dagger but brought it out as he bent down towards her face. She didn't have the guts to stab him, so she punched him in the face with her fist clutching the blade. He staggered back, unhanding her for a second. Blair held the knife, her hand shaking slightly. With his nose bleeding, he reached out, trying to grab her hair. She slashed out with her blade, leaving a wide gash in his arm. He grabbed her shoulders, trying to gain control but Blair stabbed with the dagger at his chest. She felt his hot breath on her neck for a second then he let go of her and slumped to the ground. Blair started running, fear rising in her throat. She didn't look back to see if he was following her.
That memory still hunted Blair. She had nightmares that she killed him and she never really knew if she did. The morning after that happened, his body wasn't laying there in the alley. After that night, she had never left the house without her dagger. Blair almost ran into someone in the street. She was quick and sidestepped, keeping her head down. The person, a young man flashed a dangerous smile at her. He was a Mark. She nodded to him, not out of friendship and carried on. Four other Mark's were with him. They all starred at her as she past by. The Marks were the governing power in America, their iron fist choking any uprising. Blair was scared of them. They did what ever they wanted and only enforced obedience to the Marks. They didn't care if someone was abused or stolen from, but they took some interest in murder cases. The Marks were promised to be the perfect way to rule in peace, but the people did not see this at work. Some of the bigger cities were starting to have more Marks, but then they also had more food. Since the town where Blair lived was a small one, the Marks didn't bother to send food there. Her father had hated them. She could remember heated debates about the Marks and how they ruled. Blair tried to not break the law and live her dismal life quietly. She was not sure that was everybody's view on it though. She turned a corner and walked down a street with lots tiny houses jammed together. She stopped at the 5th one and walked up the steps to the door. She knocked on it.
The door opened and Mrs Blackmen stood there, holding her five year old Luther in her arms. She smiled at Blair.
“Come in, miss Blair. I just made some bread, do you want some?”
Blair stepped in, feeling the warmth in there house. They had a fire place which was very useful in the cold seasons. Blair shook her head.
“Oh, I couldn't have some. Your kids need it more then I do.”
Mrs Blackmen, or Kary as she was more well known as, looked concerned.
“Blair, that's not true. You need to eat just as well as the next person. Goodness, child, when was the last time you ate?”
Blair closed her eyes, trying to remember.
“Three or four days, I think.”
Kary put Luther down and ushered Blair into their tiny kitchen.
“I won't let you work for me today til you eat some of my bread.”
Blair complied, sitting down at their table. Ange, Kary's little girl, walked up to her holding a doll.
“Did Bethel come?” she asked.
“No, she couldn't.”
Ange's looked disappointed. Blair smiled.
“Maybe next time.”
“Hi, Blair.”
Blair looked up and Isacar standing there, watching her. He was tall and hansom, his dark hair covering his mischievous eyes. She smiled at him.
“Hey.”
He sat down at the table beside her.
“You didn't come to my birthday party yesterday.” he said almost teasingly.
She looked down at her hands.
“Well, I would have ruined your celebration of your eighteenth birthday.” her sarcasm was plain.
He shrugged.
“Well, don't you like celebrating that I'm alive?”
This was how it always was, them two trying to outdo each other with sarcasm.
“Yes, but your turning eighteen... Your going to be drafted next month. What's to celebrate about that?”
He looked at her with his piercing brown eyes.
“I'm not going to be drafted, Blair.”
Blair could tell that there was something more in those words but Kary came in before she could reply. She put a plate in front of her that had one slice of bread on it. Blair smiled at Kary. She knew that Kary had the same disdain for the Marks as Isacar, or even Blair's dad. She often thought that the kind, forward woman knew more then she would say about the Marks. But everyone was drafted. If you tried to fight them they would kill you. The smell of the bread made Blair feel weak but she felt guilty even touching it. She picked it up and nodded at Kary.
“Thank you.”
Kary smiled back. Blair knew that it would be rude to not except it now. Ben, her second eldest, sat down next to her with some bread of his own.
“My mom makes really good bread.” he said after taking a bight.
Kary hid a smile.
“Don't speak with your mouthful, Ben.”
Blair ate it quickly, then noticed that Isacar was starring at her. He grinned and her and she rolled her eyes. They were best friends, if pulled apart with there views of the Marks, they still manage to get along very well with there sarcastic personalities. Blair stood and thanked Kary. She turned back to Isacar.
“So, how much cheese are we selling today?”
Isacar stood as well.
“As much as we can.”

Isacar and Blair walked out of the house, their arms loaded with packages of cheeses that Kary had made. This was Kary's business that kept her family going. Isacar's mother was very smart and knew how to make ends meet. Blair wished she was like her, but knew that would never happen. She and Isacar walked down the steps silently, each with their own thoughts. Isacar watched her as they walked down the streets. She seemed more depressed the usually.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
Blair adjusted the cheese she was carrying.
“Not really... I tried to stop Wryn from going to The House.”
Isacar looked concerned.
“And did she?”
She sighed.
“Yes, she did.”
“Why didn't you stop her?”
“I tried!” Blair answered bitterly. “What was I supposed to do after warning her? They might have called the Marks on me.”
Isacar looked angry.
“Blast the Marks.”
Blair grabbed his arm and almost dropped all the cheese.
“Isacar! Keep your voice down!”
He helped her put the packages back in her arms and they kept walking.
“Sorry, Blair.” he said gruffly.
Blair knew that he was only sorry that he put her in danger, not that he had spoken against the Marks.
“Your gonna get yourself killed one of these days.” she began. “Blasting the Marks, saying you won't get drafted, are you nuts?”
He looked at her, dead serious.
“Listen to me, Blair. We are not going to be drafted. What will happen to Bethel if you get drafted, or even my family? Five mouths to feed isn't easy.”
Blair looked hesitant.
“Well we wouldn't be much good to them dead.”
“We're dead ether way.” his words were true.
Blair agreed with him in her heart but she was to scared to try to fight.
“Isacar... You know I hate the Marks as much as you do, but there's nothing we can do about it.”
Isacar saw a Mark patrol coming.
“Quiet.” he hissed.
They both tried not to make eye contact with the Marks as they past. Once they were gone, Blair looked over her shoulder.
“Maybe we'd better talk about something else.”
Isacar seemed happy to.
“You know Rodger and Merrie?”
Blair nodded.
“Yeah, they work at the clothes factory.”
“Did you know that they got married?” he asked.
Blair stopped short.
“What?”
“Yes, they did. Rodger told me that for their wedding he just gave her the ring because of all the red tape you have to go threw to get married. I agree with him.”
Blair looked doubtful.
“Their both very young. Almost our ages.”
“Yes, but they are very committed. I guess all the rules of marriage have at least made the couple committed. My mother says its better to marry young, because people don't live as long as when she was a kid.”
“Well thanks for that cheery thought.” she muttered under her breath, beginning to walk again.
“Its true.” said Isacar, defending himself.
He looked thoughtful.
“I think when I get married, I'm going to do that to. Besides, I'm eighteen now and the Marks would get all nosy if they heard about it. I mean, if I give the girl the ring, that's all that matters. I just need something symbolize our love.”
Blair suddenly realized what he meant and blushed. He seemed just then to realize what he said to and quickly corrected himself.
“Oh, eh, I mean hers and mine.”
She couldn't help giggling. A quiet moment went by the she spoke
“I agree with you, Isacar.” she said softly.
He smiled and then they walked in silence for a while. Blair started to think about the drafting. It was twenty years ago that the Marks enforced the All Draft law where either man or woman had to be drafted when they turned eighteen, no exceptions. And they had to serve as a Mark for five years, the first for training, but they often kept them longer then that. Blair guessed that that was what happened to her parents, even though they were not eighteen, the Marks sometimes took older people who had not been drafted yet. But her father had always spoken so much against the Marks that they could have taken them away to kill them. Blair was afraid to think what would happen to Bethel when she would be forced to become a Mark. Turning a corner, they walked into the market place. It was alive with people selling and buying, or trading. Isacar and Blair stayed close together so they wouldn't get separated in the crowd. They made their way over to a small table and set the cheese down on it. Blair began staking it neatly in rows. They always had three or for certain costumers on Sunday. A young lady, who's name Blair could never remember. Then a little boy, Hannan, who Isacar knew. After that, an old gentleman, Mr Ganruff by name, would come. He always seemed to be sad... Or depressed. And then the last Isacar and Blair always sold to was Rennie, a thirteen year old girl who's grandfather was a very rich man. But, having known her for a while, they had found out that her grandfather drank and beat her whenever he became drunk. Blair felt sorry for her, and wondered if Rennie's life was worse then hers.
The young lady walked up, carrying a big black bag and wearing a black hat on her head. She quickly picked out two small cheeses then left, apparently in a hurry. Isacar started to juggle the cheese, bored.
“Your going to drop it.” Blair warned.
“No I'm not.” he replied.
Something caught his eye and he dropped one. Luckily, it landed on the table. The person he saw was the little boy Hannan, walking towards them. He smiled at Hannan.
“Hey.”
“Hi. Did you bring your girlfriend along to help you?” he asked.
Blair and Isacar looked at each other.
“Uh, yeah.” Isacar answered.
Blair elbowed him in the ribs.
“Nobody told me about this.”
Isacar grinned.
“Well, your a girl and your my friend. Aren't you?”
Blair gave him a look, then grinned back.
“So, what kind of cheese are you getting today, Hannan?” she said, changing the subject.
Hannan looked at the cheese then pointed to a small one.
“That one, I think. My mom just wants a small one this time.”
“It seems like everyone is buying the small ones.” Isacar commented quietly.
Hannan gave Blair a five dollars and she gave him the cheese. He waved to them then walked off.
“Everybody's making just enough to make ends meet, no thanks to the Marks.” he murmured.
Blair didn't answer. If anybody knew about that, it would be her and Isacar. The stood there, waiting. A group of Marks past by, all well armed. Blair and Isacar starred at the ground as they walked by. As they walked out of the market place, Blair saw the old gentleman walking towards them with his sorrowful expression on his face. He leaned on a cane as he walked. She and Isacar smiled at him, greeting him as he walked up.
“Good day, sir.” she said.
He forced a smile, but didn't look up from the cheese that he was inspecting.
“I'll take that pale cheese there.” he said abruptly.
Blair gave it to him and he put the money on the table. Isacar took it and thanked him.
“Good day, you two. Be careful.” he said.
He never talked like that. He almost never talked at all, but they both nodded. They waited for a while, watching all the people going to and fro. Isacar caught a glimpse of Rennie slowly making her way over to the table. He nudged his companion.
“Look, Rennie's coming.”
Blair smiled and waved to her. Rennie walked up, holding a basket in her arms.
“Hello, Rennie.”
As Rennie turned her head to look at her, Blair saw a brews on her cheek. She felt a pang of sympathy for her as she tried to find her voice. She was so mad at the girl's grandfather for doing this to her.
“How are you today?” she asked, thinking how stupid the question was.
“I'm fine.” she said quietly.
She was very shy. Rennie looked at the cheeses.
“My grandfather wants two big ones.”
Isacar gave them to her.
“Thank you.”
Isacar smiled and nodded.
“Rennie...” Blair began. “Are you sure your okay?”
Rennie looked like she was about to answer when she heard someone calling her.
“I... I have to go. Sorry.” she ran off, clutching the basket close.
Blair sighed and looked down at the table. Was there nothing she could do?
“I can't help any of this.” she said despairingly.
Isacar looked at her quizzically.
“What do you mean?”
Blair shook her head.
“I can't stop Wryn from going to The House, I can't stop Rennie's grandfather from drinking, I can't stop the Marks from taking you away from...” she trailed off, as if not wanting to say more.
“From what?” he asked.
She tried to shrug off what she had been planning to say.
“From us.”
He looked into her eyes.
“Don't give up, or you really won't be any help.”
She forced a smile and leaned on the table.
“Slow and steady?”
They stood there for three more hours, until it turned dark. Isacar gave Blair her share of the money then she helped Isacar pile the rest of the cheese they hadn't sold into his arms. It was getting cold and they both were ready to go to their homes.
“Goodnight.” he said.
“Goodnight... I'll see you tomorrow, right?”
“That depends on if I'm selling her tomorrow. But most likely.”
Blair nodded then they both parted, Isacar going down one street and she going another. The walk back was uneventful, which Blair was glad. She walked up to the her house and opened the door. Walking in, she placed a package of cheese that Isacar had given her on the table. Blair turned to see that Bethel asleep, laying in her bed with her yarn still in her small hands. Blair smiled. Taking off her boots, jacket and belt quickly, she stole over to her little sister and picked up her blanket. Covering Bethel gently, Blair stroked her little sister's hair. Blair didn't know what she would do without Bethel, probably go crazy with nothing to do she thought. Rolling over, Blair lay down on her bed which was made up of old sheets and blankets too. Laying her head on the pillow, she soon fell asleep, tired out from standing all day.

Chapter 2

Blair Sage was standing in a field, the grass swishing under her feet. She held her dagger in her hand, waiting. Her father had two daggers in his hands. He was training her.
“Hold it up, Blair. Don't let it fall.”
They locked blades in a power struggle, Blair's arms straining with the effort. She suddenly backed away, breathing hard.
“You need to work up your muscle strength.” he said. “Try to attack me this time.”
The hot sun was burning Blair's face, but she jump towards him, her blade flashing. He sidestepped, and put the blade to the back of her neck. He withdrew it quickly.
“Never leave your back undefended, Blair.”
She stood up strait. He bent down, putting a hand on her shoulder.
“That's what they want you to do. But we have to fight it!” he said almost dangerously, staring into her eyes.
“What? What do they want to do me?” she asked silently.
“But how can I? What will happen to Bethel if I fight?”
They both heard Bethel's scream coming from the town.
Blair sat strait up in bed, breathing hard. She wasn't in the field, she was at home, with Bethel. She checked Bethel's bed. She was fast asleep, curled up with the yarn still tangled around her fingers. Light picked through the window as the sun started to rise. Blair placed a hand on her racing heart.
“It was only a dream.” she told herself.
Just a dream. She stood and walked over to the chest again. She quickly picked out some clothes and put them on. Grabbing a brush from the chest, she began brushing her hair. With that done, she braided it then pulled on her boots and jacket. Blair didn't have the heart to wake Bethel. She looked so tired... Taking the cheese, she cut to pieces from it and placed one on the table and the other in her pocket. Taking her belt, she buckled it on. She had to work at the factory that day, another long tiring day of bending over clothe and sewing. Blair couldn't care less for it, but it was the only safe place for her to work. She set off down the street, the cold wind blowing over her shoulders. The factory (which could not really be called a factory since all it was, was twenty four sewing machines and several tables where people folded and put the clothes on) had thirty two workers, most of them were teens. She had several good friends there. Cameron, Eryn and Jake. They all worked hard and kept each other company. Blair looked up and saw the black building rising above all the others. It was the tallest building in the city, being five stories high. Several people were heading that way. Blair caught a glimpse of Eryn through the crowd. She ran up beside her.
“Hey, Eryn”
Eryn tossed her long, chestnut brown back and smiled at her friend.
“Yo, Blair.” she said jokingly. “Had fun on Sunday?”
“Yeah, sure.” Blair muttered.
Eryn gave her a knowing look then changed the subject.
“Rodger and Merrie got married.”
“Isacar told me. I never would have guessed it.”
Eryn looked at her as if she had lost her senses.
“What?”
“You!” Eryn replied, laughing. “It was quite obvious to me.”
“I'm sure it was.” Blair retorted.
“What's that supposed to mean?”
Blair didn't say anything. Eryn was the knowing type. You could go as far to say she was a match-maker. It was the way she looked at you with her beautiful brown eyes and they told you she knew what you were thinking. Blair loved spending time with her, it always made her cheer up from her woes.
“How's the orphanage fairing?” Blair asked
Eryn shrugged.
“Same as usual. Boring, cold. stuff like that.”
“Hmm, it sounds like my house.”
Eryn looked at her while speeding up the pace.
“I thought it would be exiting at your house. You having a five year old sister and all.”
Blair bit her lip.
“You would think that, wouldn't you? But she's to hungry to be energetic...”
“I'm sorry... I didn't know it was that bad.”
“Yeah, well its not like its big news. Children die everyday of starvation.”
“You sound like we can't do anything about it.” Eryn said, her tone of voice challenging.
“I didn't say that, Eryn.” Blair said quietly. “I just wish I had hope like yours.”
“You know where my hope comes from, don't you, Blair?”
Blair nodded and smiled. That gave her some comfort. They both walked past a old, broken down church building. Eryn nodded towards it.
“Think there will ever be another preacher preaching in there?”
Blair didn't know.
“You'd have to find someone brave enough to do it.”
Christianity was aloud, but the Marks kept such a close eye on them that all the former preachers were scared off. Both of them were Christian teens, trying to strive to keep strong morals in such a place. They both walked towards the factory, thinking of all the things they couldn't fix.

Adar stood at the entrance to the small city. His hard eyes watching from behind the car's window. He nodded.
“Commander, activate code CM7, but do not go to the orphanage. That would be too abrupt.”
The commander sitting beside him opened the car door and stepped out.
“Yes, sir.” he answered, saluting.
“Go to the Miller's, Blackmen's and Sage's houses first. Kill any adults you find there, except for Mr Miller, of course. Go.”
His commander signaled his men to follow him and they walked into the city, guns drawn. Adar watched them leave and rested his head against the seat. His Master's plan was in action.

Blair bent over the sewing machine, grimacing as her back strained from sitting for hours. She looked up and watched Eryn folding the clothes, but quickly looked back down as a manager walked past. He watched her work for a second then continued walking around the factory. Rennie's grandfather owned the factory, which was why he was so rich, but he also worked for the Marks and Blair was sure that they paid him too. She jumped as the overseer yelled over the humming of sewing machines.
“Halt!” the humming stopped. “Lunch break for an hour and a half. Be back by then or your fired. Dismissed!”
Blair stood slowly up from her chair, nodding to him. He nodded back and smiled. He wasn't a bad sort, but he did have the air of a commander. Walking over to Eryn, Blair nodded to the door.
“Coming?” she asked.
Eryn nodded, placing a shirt on the folding table.
“Yeah, lets find Cameron and Jake and get out of here.”
Blair caught sight of the two guys in question and waved to them. They waved back and made their way through all the people over to their friends.
“Morning.” Camryn said.
Jake shook his head.
“Its two thirty, man.” he said, looking at his watch.
He was the only one out of all of us that had a watch, though sometimes it was off, Blair was sure. Camryn smiled.
“Well, I am sorry.”
Jake could not stand people giving out wrong information, and Camryn took full use of this. Blair spoke.
“Want to eat at the abandoned church again?”
The three others nodded.
“Sure,” Eryn said. “Wanna stop by the market place before we go over there?”
Blair eyed her.
“No... Why would we?”
Eryn nodded knowingly.
“I think you know.”
All three stared at their friend, thinking the same thing. Blair glared at them frostily.
“No, I don't. Besides, we only have an hour to eat and that would take up too much time.” she crossed her arms.
Jake spoke up.
“An hour and twenty minutes.” he corrected.
“Whatever.”
Blair started walking to the door then looked back at them
“Well are you coming or aren't you?”
They all followed her out the door and down the steps. They began walking down the street, Blair in the lead. Eryn caught up with her.
“I didn't see Wryn today, did you?”
Blair looked down at her boots as they walked, not wanting to talk anymore about it.
“No, I didn't... She gone her own way and we can't stop her.”
Eryn pursed her lips.
“I wish we could.”
Blair shrugged.
“She is her own person.”
They walked in silence for a while. Blair began to notice that there were more Marks patrolling stone streets than usual. All four kept their heads down but Blair caught a glimpse of two Marks whispering something then looking at her. She let her hair fall over her face, hiding their eyes. They waiting until the patrol moved on then walked up the church steps, its walls and shutters creaking. As Jake was about to open the door, they all heard a crash coming from inside the building then a voice.
“Blast that bench!”
Blair grinned.
“It's Isacar.”
“I thought he was selling cheese.” Eryn commented.
Blair gave her friend a look then opened the door and peered in. She saw Isacar standing in a pool of light coming from the window, slashing the air with a dagger quite like her own. He looked like he was practicing. Silently, she walked up behind him. Not knowing she was there, he swung the dagger over his shoulder, spinning round. In a flash, Blair had her knife up and there blades locked. Isacar seemed confused for a moment and they both said nothing. Finally, Blair broke the silence.
“Who taught you how to fight?”
“My father.” he said. “You?”
They stared into each others eyes.
“My father.” she replied levelly.
Isacar drew his dagger away.
“Curios.”
Blair could see that he was in a concentrating on something, though his face looked grim.
“Is something wrong?”
He twirled his dagger then looked at the others.
“I'm... Training.”
“And that's bad?”
“Training for what?” Camryn asked.
Blair looked concerned.
“Surely not for becoming a Mark.”
He smiled grimly at her.
“Certainly not. I'm training for an escape.”
Camryn raised a eye brow at him.
“That might be bad.”
Blair put her dagger away.
“Isacar... They're going to kill you.”
“Then let them do it face-to-face!” he almost shouted then regretted it. “I'm sorry. I just...”
He ran his hand threw his long, brown hair then forced a smile at them.
“I suppose you think I'm foolish.”
“Maybe a little.” Eryn said honestly.
Blair looked down at the floor.
“Your gonna get yourself killed, Isacar Blackmen.” she thought angrily. She knew his reasoning: He was going to be drafted anyway, so why not fight? She understood why he thought what he thought, but she still did not have that burning desire to kill the Marks. Maybe she should have, they took her parents after all, but she wasn't brave enough to be mad at them for all the things they had done.
“I brought some bread if any of you-” Jake began but was cut off by Blair
“Be quiet!” she hissed. “Can you guys hear something?”
They all listened for a moment then Isacar tensed up.
“Yeah, I heard it. It sounds like someone screaming.”
Blair's face grew scared then she ran out of the door. Isacar and the others were right on her heals.
“Blair, where are you going?” Eryn called after her.
Blair replied as she ran.
“Its coming from my house. It sounds like Bethel!”
As they ran, they all heard three gun shots coming from down the street. Isacar caught up to her and was just a few houses away from Blair's when he saw a group of Marks standing around her house. Thinking quickly, he grabbed Blair's arm and pulled her into a alleyway. The others followed. As they pressed their backs against the wall, they heard another scream. Blair was about to yell at her friend when he put a hand over her mouth and whispered to her.
“Blair, be quiet! I saw several Marks standing around your house. Just wait a second!”
She removed his hand but he blocked the her way.
“I know! Bethel's at the house and I need to get to her!” she whispered back.
Camryn peered around a wall and watched the Marks, his anger growing. One of them came out of the house with a small child in his arms and they began talking and started gesturing with their daggers and guns at her. Camryn had never seen Bethel, but he knew that this girl was in danger. Blair was struggling in Isacar's grasp.
“Let me go! I have to save Bethel!”
Isacar tried to calm her down.
“Blair, there was at least thirteen Marks standing around your house! It would be suicide to go over there now!”
Camryn watched the Marks carefully. They talked a few minutes longer then nodded to each other, walking away from the house down another street. Camryn nodded to Isacar.
“They left. Its safe to go now.”
Blair pulled away from Isacar and started running towards her house. Isacar and the others followed her, running behind. Isacar still held his dagger in his hand, gripping it tight. Blair was already going inside the house and no Marks were in sight. Isacar began walking towards the door when Blair ran out of the house, her face stricken with grief. Isacar steadied her.
“Blair, where is she? What happened?”
Blair couldn't stop her tears.
“They took her! They took Bethel!”
Jake walked up to the door and opened it. The house was a mess, the mirror lying on the floor, the chest knocked about and the beds kicked all around the house. He saw several bullet holes in the wall. He turned back to Isacar, shaking his head. Isacar held Blair close, trying to comfort her.
“Why? What did I do wrong!?” her sobs came out in gasps, letting Isacar hold her.
“They did something wrong, not you, Blair.” Isacar said fiercely, a tear springing to his eye. Camryn's face was a mask of rage.
“We need to go after them.”
“No!” Eryn said, facing up to him. “They'll kill us if we follow them.”
“But Eryn, they're gonna kill her if we-”
“Eryn's right.” Isacar said. “We can't just go dashing off after them. We don't know why they took her yet.”
Jake looked from him to Camryn.
“But, they're gonna kill her!” he said.
Isacar shook his head.
“No, if they were going to kill her, they would have done it here and saved them time.”
Camryn was walking back and forth, agitated.
“But what are we gonna do?”
Isacar lost his patients with them.
“I don't know! I don't know anything, okay?! Just calm down and let me think!”
Blair tried to pull herself together.
“What did I do? I've tried so hard to play by the rules, and they still took her!?”
Isacar looked at her.
“Blair... Are you okay?”
Blair bit her lip, trying to toughen up.
“I never should have left her! I should have been here!”
“You can't say that. You were working to feed her, Blair. What would you have done if you were there? They would have killed you too.”
“They didn't kill her,” Camryn said. “They took her away.”
“We don't know that.” Jake rejected. “Didn't we all hear gun shots?”
Camryn elbowed him sharply.
“Shut up, will you?” he said quietly so that Blair couldn't hear.
They heard another gun shot coming from Isacar's home.

Rennie rested on the window seat, reading a book while trying to be as quiet as possible. She thought her grandfather was in the house, but she could not be sure. She jumped as she heard a knock on the front door then her grandfather's steps walking towards it. He passed her on his way. Rennie tried not to look at him and made herself look as small as possible. He did not seem to notice her. She heard him open the door then she heard him talking to someone.
“Is your granddaughter here, Mr Miller?”
“Yes, she is.”
“We have orders to take her to MB7, sir.”
Rennie's heart began to bound in her chest. She quietly began to walk out of the hall into her room.
“Aha. So your plan is already in action? What is Rennie to be? If I may ask.”
“A maid-servant, most likely, but it all depends.”
Rennie stood at the door to her room, breathing faster.
“A maid-servant? No! Please...” she begged silently.

The Mark who was talking to her grandfather stepped in.
“Where is she?”
Mr Miller gestured down a hallway.
“In her room, I think.”
The Mark caught sight of a girl standing in the hallway, in a long white dress, watching them. He nodded to her.
“Is that her?”
The other man nodded.
“Yes, that's her. Rennie, come here.”
Rennie stood where she was, holding the door to her room open.
“Come here, child.”
The Mark pushed past the old man.
“Let me handle this.”
Striding forward, he grabbed Rennie's arm. She tried to pull away but he drew out his gun and placed it against her chest.
“Be still if you want to live.”
He turned to her grandfather.
“Don't worry sir, she'll be well taken care off.”
He pulled her along until they were standing close to the door. Rennie looked into her grandfather's eyes, pleading. He looked away, not out of pity or guilt, but out of something like pride. The Mark nodded to Mr Miller.
“The Master wanted me to tell you that you have done a good job over this town. He is impressed, even.”
Mr Miller's tone was slightly sarcastic as he replied.
“Impressed? It doesn't take much to keep control over this town.”
The Mark hid a sneer.
“I've noticed.”
The old man nodded to him, as if giving him leave to go. The Marks pulled her out of the house and slammed the door. Rennie did not scream, because no one would care even if they heard her. One, a slightly younger Mark looked at her.
“Can't we make her into a maid-servant now?” he asked.
The one who had taken her shook his head.
“No, our orders were to bring them back unharmed, so keep your hands off her until He gives the word.”
They walked off, heading down the stone street towards the city's main gate

Friday, April 6, 2012

Innocent Blood


You monitor her every move,
Until she's gone.
And maybe you did some things
That you shouldn't have done.
But its okay,
Cause she said so,
And you'll go through your day,
Not knowing how she hurts,
And how her pain feels.
Cause she doesn't have a shield,
To protect her from your trampling feet.
Maybe someday you'll see.
Does it take a life to show you what your own words reap?
If she thinks she'll ever get away from you,
She's wrong.
Cause you always know what to say.
You kill her with the truth,
The truth that she can't say herself.
So you put her back on the shelf,
Hoping a little that she'll be okay.
But not really...
And she listens to you, “Its gonna be okay.”
She listens to your lies that you believe day-by-day.
She believes them too until the last night,
When she realizes the truth you told her so long ago.
That no, she can't stay.
And she'll go away,
Hoping at the least,
That you'll cry for her on the day that she wastes away,
Her day to die and pass away.
The insults that pass between your lips,
Of course they aren't really true,
But did you ever tell her that she really is Beautiful?
She is so empty,
And you are so full.
The pride you take in the insults you make,
They cut her like she cuts herself.
Please don't put her back on the shelf.
The things she wants for help,
You tell her that they could never work.
Hurt doesn't just go away,
It stays and eats at the heart day after day.
And you wonder why she doesn't go to your parties or plays.
Its because she is afraid she'll get in your way.
The shame of her guilt would be lessened by death.
Who is there to tell her not to give up?
Bu she listens to you, “Its gonna be okay.”
She listens to your lies day-by-day.
Who else is there to believe?
You run the show.
When she realizes the truth you told her so long ago.
And no, she can't stay.
She'll go away,
Hoping at the least,
That you'll cry for her on the day that she wasted away,
Her day to die and pass away.
Your blows come harsh and slow,
And she suddenly realizes she doesn't have anywhere to go.
There is one place.
Tell me to stop myself,” she thinks,
But know one cares enough to stop her,
Its to late,
Your tough love is to much.
To much truth that didn't matter much.
The way she thinks you see her as
Is to hard to bare.
And she can't share,
Because she is entrapped in your snare.
And you listen to her sing a song.
I tried,” she thinks,
Hoping that it will be okay.
But you laugh and say to her, “That was way to long,”
I'm not enough,” she knows now.
Kill her joy,
Trample her love.
The shows run by you now.
And you don't have room for her,
Nor do you care for the stuff she thinks.
She's wrong,
Live your life without her song,
She what you care,
See that she can't bare up anymore.
So her song stops,
And her heart beat drops.
And the things she thinks don't matter anymore,
Even though you told her its gonna be alright.
She tried to believe your lies,
But they were to hard to swallow.
And her dying wish?
That no one would live with the same dying wish as she.
Because all she wanted to do was to die.
Her death,
Does it make you see?
Or will you go on,
Trampling another innocent soul,
That was innocent until you touched her.
Don't callus a child,
For their spirit will go astray and wither away.
Like Her,
Who's left with her blood on your hands.
And the sand would embracing her for the last time.
Sing her sweet song for her death day.
And hope to wash your hands clean from the Innocent's blood.