• Proluge (7 years old)
    The rough canvas caressed me and I sighed, blowing a strand of brown hair out of my face.
    "I'm not going to escape. I'm not an idiot." I heard grissly laughing muffled by the bag I was trapped in.
    " I'm glad. But- your 7 sweetheart."
    "aww mo, I bet she's 'fraid of the dark!" a higher pitched teasing voise mocked me.
    "I'm NOT afraid of the dark! I just want fresh air." I blew a strand of brown hair out of my eyes and mumbled under my breath. Bumpy roads made me jump, and the cold night made me shiver. But I didn't cry, didn't shed a tear. I wouldve cryed for Mary, the elderly nursemaid, but she had died 2 months ago. There was nothing I had to cry about at my old adopted familys home. Just a house to me. No, I wouldn't struggle. I wouldn't disobey. I'd be a good girl.
    When cool fresh air rushed into my nose I looked up and saw the face of a young man. piercing blue eyes the color of a forest pond stood out in the mask of scars he wore. His eyes told me that I could trust him.
    He helped me along the confusing path becouse I stumbled. And when stones began to stick in my bare feet he picked me up and carried me along the rocky trail.
    •=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•
    "wake-up! Mo-o-oo! Coon's on the sunrise shift. If you don't wake up now your gonna miss out on all the good meat!"
    Coon is 53, and a pickpocket wih wonderful story-telling abilities, coon will fill his pot belly with every scrap of meat he can get his little hands on. Earning him the nickname 'coon as in racoon.
    "ok ok. I'm up. I'll be out in a bit." I roll my eyes at mo's questionable statment, and bound out of the tent.
    "sure you will"
    Sarah, Jack, coon and uncle bow stood around the fire. Sarah held a mug of goats milk, Jack a leg of... Something and uncle bow held his violin. Coon as usual had a nice helping of meats on a plate.
    "morning ash." Sarah smiled at me with her beutifull smile. Sarah's 23 with whimsical dirty blonde hair that's more brunnete then blonde.
    "good morning Sarah."
    "mo still out?" Jack asked laughing.
    "I tried three times if he's not up it's his own fault!" jack nodded. Jack is tall and lanky, with Big hands. He's 21and like a big brother.
    "don't move tash."
    My breathing speeds up as I escalate into instinct mode.
    Uncle bow notched his arrow and aims it at somthing behind me.
    My heart pounds fast. Faster. Faster.
    I whip around my knife already drawn.
    And I find myself face to face with a dark green/blue eyed boy. His dark
    Colored hair a mess. A sharp capable knife in hand.
    If he wants to kill me it would be to late. (run) I
    Wouldn't be able to protect myself(runrunrun) neither would anyone else (flee flee before your neck is split) you'd already be dead.
    And my feet are hitting dirt, and the boys hand pulls me back by the arm and his knife is cold and jet sharp on my throat.
    "don't shoot. I don't want to hurt anybody."
    At this point I must look crazed. All I want is to curl into a ball and hide in the foliage. To disapear. Were no one knows were I am.
    I close my eyes and bring my armed hand down to his leg. I position the knife ready to dig into his flesh, and Jack is shaking, warning me to not hurt the boy. Barely containing himself.

    "arnt you a little old for her?"
    "she's more like a little sister. And you should really get your filthy hands of her!"
    He draws me closer, his breath hot on the back of my neck. His arm wraps around my waist, In a defensive posission. His knife is hard and tense on my neck, and I can't breathe.
    "no."
    In the quickest second ever been, I saw mo's callased hand grasp the boys wrist and brang the edge to the strangers throat.
    I turned around and saw that look in mo's eyes. That look that told me his knife would bite flesh, would be stained with blood.
    "Dont!" I cried, and brang my hands to boys chest and shoved, defending his blood.
    His head struck rock and he was knocked unconscious, mo looked into my eyes, terrified of what he had been about to do.

    =•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•

    My eyes opened to a new place. A throbbing in the base of my head, a rough rope cutting into my wrists. I saw the brown hair of the girl named tash, the girl who, I think, had saved my life.
    "who are you?" I asked
    She didn't turn towards me when she replied. "what sick reasoning do you have that makes you think you have the right to ask that question first?"

    I didn't know what to say.
    "I'm... Sorry."
    "sorry?" she turned to look at me. Her eyes peered into my soul. It didn't look much like she liked what she saw there.
    "Sorry? That's what you have to say to me? Your lucky I didn't let mo slit your throat. Maybe I shoud have."
    She turned away whispering but fuming.
    " mo and Jack are going to be out there. They are going to be mad. And now, you have no hostage. You do what they say or it's your neck, k?"
    I nodded even though I was behind her. She stood, a knife in hand. She ktept behind me and I gasped as she knelt down.
    " oh calm down. I'm just cutting your ropes."
    I felt the rough hemp slip off my wrists. I saw how bloody they were and the blood I had added to the cord.
    "get up." I did as she said and stood she pushed me to the exit of the tent, and when my head slipped I saw the tongues of the fire.
    "no.NO!" I tried to backstep and walked into tash, who pushed me forward.
    "the fire!"
    "yep it keeps you warm."
    I shook my head. "no no you don't understand!"
    I surveyed the camp. When a escape route became clear I shot for it.
    A weight landed on my back and I thudded to the ground, I felt the tip of a knife on my back.
    "don't move."
    "I I have to get out of here!"
    "you ain't goin' anywere kid. Your answering to us." Mo. His expression 6unreadable. I heard his voice,rough, complementing the girl on grounding me. She bounced off my back and pulled me back into the tent.
    "WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM?"
    I was quivering morbid memories shaking me. "fire.f-fire! The the fire."
    She sighed, closing her eyes. "your terrified arnt you?"
    I watched her mouth moving, watched her face as she switched gears. I nodded.
    "why?"
    I took a deep breath and began my story.
    "my name is ______ my father left when he found that my mother was pregnant with my little brother Timmy. He said she was worthless and left on a voyage to the spice islands. She was so sad. My mom was a beutifull woman. Her name had been Sally. She studied the use of herbs and medicinal concoctions, she so badly wanted to be worth something.
    Those in our town took her knowledge of plants medicinal value and turned it into making potions, her beauty mark for a devils mark. Her speaking in tongue as evil chants. They burned her for witchcraft. The priest too becouse he suggested she was speaking with gods words. I watched my eldest brother be captured and saw the smoke, watched little timmy burn. Mom shrieking praises to God while she burned. As I watched. "
    "I never... Knew my parents. My real mother died giving birth to me. My wealthy father married a woman a little while later. She sent me off, wanted me to be a payed friend for a noble familys brat, and enlisted my brother, Bennet, to the regal library. Oh I miss him. They threw him down into a dungeon cause of a book he saw. My name had been Delilah. I hated it. Delilah used her looks to fool goliath. She betrayed him. My mother had named me something else, but my father changed it when she died. "
    "what had she named you?"
    "I-I don't know. He wouldn't tell me." she hung her head, her anger washed out by a flood of longing.
    "my father had loved my older brother, David. David was the perfect son in his eyes. In my eyes, I couldn't have been blessed with a better big brother. He saved me from the pompuos man. But there was no such luck for Timmy, though my father never saw him. He had left us with a care giver though, saying that my mother was incappable."
    Tash sighed, some memory playing on the back of her eyelids.
    She seemed to be revaling in this past, almost as if she was digging up another life that she had left far behind.