Young Writers Society

In a peaceful little village in the generally peaceful country of Nymith, was a normal looking farm house. A child and her father were settling down for the night. The little 8 year old ran about the room, giggling, as her father playfully chased after her with his fatherly grin. She jumped up on her bed, and stuck her tongue out at her dad, and he lunged for her, humming “Eny meeny miny mo” The girl jumped off the bed, and onto a little chair, lost her footing, and fell onto the floor. Her dad ran to her, and bundled her up, and tickled her belly. She squealed happily, trying to push him away. He gave a good hearted laugh and held her in his lap, kissing her head, smelling her long black hair.

“You’re so beautiful, just like your mother.” Her father said with pure love. The girl just giggled, and kissed his cheek. “But you must get off to bed, dear.” He said, lifting her up, and spinning her around.

Pure pleasure and playfulness were all over her face. Then the father set her down on her bed, she looked up at him with a pouty face, and big grey eyes. The father’s face softened a little, but he pulled the covers up to her neck. He sat on the bed, smiling down at his daughter.

“You’re the most important person to me, Sarn, always remember that, you’re wanted in the world.” He said, brushing her black locks off her forehead, she just smiled up at him.

“You’re important to me too, dad!” she said in a determined voice, or at least as determined as you could sound at age 8.

“Sweet dreams little angel.” The father leaned down and kissed her forehead. He then got up, and walked out the door, blowing out a candle as he left, and closing the door softly behind him.

As soon as he left the room, Sarn jumped out of the bed, and stalked over to her window. She peaked her little face out between the curtains, and stared at the broad navy sky. The moon, a sharp sliver, embracing the sleeping world with silver wings of light. Sarn loved the moon; father often said she was like the moon, kind, soft, and distant. True she often spaced out in class, but she was dreaming of grater things, like flying and joining the so-called Falkurii of the Ups. They were spoken like a legend, but she believed they were very much alive. Sarn breathed in a deep sigh, she was totally relaxed.

Sarn swept her eyes across the landscape, taking in the very familiar farm land, the neighbor’s houses no bigger than hers. But something caught her eye, a grey streak cut through the navy sky; it was the smoke of a camp fire. It must be nothing to worry about. Maybe even foreigners to trade with and maybe even new farmers! But Sarn didn’t think too much on it. She simply crawled into bed. Little did she know her village would be in flames a few hours later.

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CRASH! Sarn sat bolt upright in her bed, sounds coming from down stairs. What was happening? Where was dad? Was that crash him? These questions bounced around Sarn’s little head. She threw aside her covers, and bounded for the door, as she grabbed the doorknob, and was about to turn it. A scream split the night, a scream with pain, and fear, the worst was it was her dad’s scream. Sarn turned the doorknob, and wrenched the door open with such force it hit her dresser, with a BANG! Sarn dashed out into the halls, and smoke filled her nose, she coughed, and ran down the stairs.

She whirled into the hall, but people were already in the hall. There was a fire at the door. Her dad was on the ground, in a pool of blood, and a gaping hole in his back. Sarn’s eyes widened in fear, and her blood became ice. Her throat closed up. But then she saw the man looming over her father, with windblown auburn hair, and a blood stained sword. He had a sad, almost guilty expression on his face. But then there was another man standing at her father’s head, looking at Sarn with blood lust, and a crazed smile playing on his lips.

“S...sarn…. Please…. Run….” Her dad said, his eyes slightly glazed. Each word was like a stab in the heart, for Sarn.

“Heh, like that’ll happen,” said the bloodlust crazed guy. And he stepped towards Sarn. Sarn stayed rooted to the ground, her knees practically trembling like a nervous rabbits. The tall man loomed over her, his eyes a dark brown shone with reflected violence. He laughed, a bone chattering laugh, making the hair on the back of Sarn’s neck stand on end. “This is too easy!” The man boasted, socking Sarn in the face.

Blood spurted out of her nose, and she fell on all fours, heaving a breath, reaching for her nose. But the man kicked her square in the stomach, knocking the wind out of her. She gasped, her vision blurring. Everything had gone so wrong, how could this happen? But it wasn’t the time to be thinking those thoughts.

“P-please, don’t hurt her, you can kill me! Don’t hurt her! Please!” The cries of pity escaped her father’s lips, as he tried to get up, and help Sarn; she reached her hand out to her father, her head and heart pounding. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she stifled a sob. Her father reached for her. Their hands were inches apart.

The crazed guy nodded at the swordsman, and he possessively stomped his foot on Sarn’s father, stabbing his sword into her father’s hand, stopping it dead.

“Please don’t do this! Stop Please!” His last cry, his voice breaking. The crazed guy just kicked her father in the face, making his nose bleed. And he placed his foot on her father’s head. He moved no more.

Sarn couldn’t hold it in any longer, her chest and throat tightened, and she let out a terrible wail, that vibrated through her house. Big fat tears cascaded down her cheeks, and onto the floor. She got up, and jumped at the crazed guy’s face, all reason forgotten. Her little hands wrapped around his neck, and she screamed at him.

“WHY!? WHY DID YOU DO THIS TO ME!?!?” She felt her clenched teeth creek, her hands pulsing with newfound energy. Her fat tears dropped to the floor.

The crazed man seemed relaxed, a smile still on his lips. He brought his fist up and punched Sarn’s chest. Pushing her off him, after all she was at a disadvantage being about a foot smaller; she had to stand on her tip toes, making her off balance. She fell to the ground, spots danced before her eyes, and the man proceeded to kick her 3 times in the side. She winced at all them. But everything seemed numb and pointless; if they could kill her father they could just as easily kill her right? She went into a daze. Tears of defeat fell bitterly across her face.

The crazed man grinded his boot into the side of Sarn’s head.

"Given up that easily,” He practically chuckled it, looking down at Sarn. Sarn didn’t respond. “Well, Karath, you could do the honors, with that wicked sword.” The crazed man nodded at the man with the sword.

Karath looked away, like he was thinking and didn’t even notice the little scuffle going on before him.

“I was thinking it would be more conservative to enslave her, I mean it’s better to put her to some use.” He said rather monotonely, a sad smile filling his dazed face. He almost showed pity.

The crazed man crossed his arms, and glared at Karath. Karath didn’t say anything more, just looked away from the man he just murdered.

The crazed man heaved a heavy sigh, and prodded Sarn with his foot, making her roll on her back.

“Get up!” He barked at her. Sarn didn’t move, everything was so muffled to her all she heard were harsh words.

The crazed man yanked her long black hair. Sarn winced and cried a little cry.

“Get up! NOW!” The crazed man yelled. Sarn moved her trembling hands and legs, and stood before the crazed man. Her tearful gaze set on him.

“Break a window or something Karath, do something!” The crazed man barked his orders. The crazed man grabbed Sarn’s little hands, took out some rope, and tied them together tightly, the itchy material digging into Sarn’s wrists. She swallowed, and gritted her teeth.

The crazed man bent down, and swooped up Sarn, over his shoulder, the force knocked the breath out of her. Then he ran into the kitchen, and climbed up on the counter where Karath had broken a window. The crazed man jumped out of it. As Sarn left the window, she grabbed at the sides and got a shard of glass. And the last thing Sarn saw was her dad’s pale lifeless body, and her childhood in flames.

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Sarn gripped the shard of glass so hard it almost cut into her skin. She began cutting into the rope around her wrists, every time the crazed man stepped, the glass threatened to fall from Sarn’s grip.

Sarn saw all her neighborhood in flames, they were always so kind. Last screams managed to escape the melted windows. Sarn closed her eyes, and they entered the woods behind her house, branches grabbed at her, pulling her hair as if wanting it for their own.

The darkness seemed to follow them. Stalking its prey.

The rope wrapped around Sarn’s wrists was being cut well by the glass shard. Sarn bit her lip. It was hard to breath with someone’s shoulder digging into your stomach. There was like one millimeter left in the rope. Then the Crazed man jumped over a log, and the glass shard was jerked from Sarn’s grip. Oh well, I think I could just break the rest of the rope Sarn thought, as she pulled her wrists apart.

The rope put up a good fight but finally it snapped. Sarn had to be careful not to let her wrists fling back and hit the Crazed man in the back. Sarn braced herself, as she dug her finger nails into the man’s back through his shirt, and bit his shoulder. He immediately yelped, and began trying to yank Sarn off his back. Sarn only bit herder, this was the man who had smiled at her father’s death, she wasn’t going easily. Hot tears welled up and dripped onto the crazed man’s shirt. The Crazed man had stopped running, and Karath had stopped after he heard the Crazed man yelp. The crazed man was hitting Sarn’s legs and cursing her.

A hot pain raced up Sarn’s left ankle, as the Crazed man twisted her ankle. Sarn made the mistake of yelping, letting go of the man’s shoulder. He took that moment, and whipped her whole body over his shoulder. Sarn hit the rocky soil head first, hearing something snapping. Her limbs numbing, ragdoll like. The world became out of focus. Sarn seemed distant once again, separated, reality-less.

“YOU BITCH!!!” The crazed man drew his foot back to blow the girl in the stomach. He kicked with full force, Sarn got the wind knocked out of her, and she skidded 3 or 4 feet away. She coughed, and hacked. The crazed man didn’t notice, he stepped toward Sarn for another blow, landing right in her chest. She rolled away. Sarn struggled to move, to get up to do something, her limbs traumatized, and weak. The Crazed man slammed his boot down on Sarn to stop her from moving. Sarn stared around for a way to escape, any help, she saw Karath. She peeked through her midnight hair, with hopeless, strained eyes at him.

“Please…. H..elp…me….” Sarn somehow found a voice inside her, it wasn’t the usual innocent tone, it was dark, and forlorn. She choked back a sob.

Karath glanced at her, a look of pure pity, and her turned away doing nothing. He seemed to be staining, like he wanted to help her but not while the Crazed man was looking.

So that was what Sarn had become, something to pity. She was that pitiful? No longer has the smiling innocent little farmed girl, who smiled at the locals. She was a peasant, not even she was condemned to chains and rope forever bound. Sobs escaped her lips; her lungs were having trouble getting into a rhythm. She coughed like some poor person who couldn’t afford a proper doctor. Her despair stretched for eternity, tormenting her. She was pitiful. She was frowned upon. A dirty little bitch on the side of the street looking for anything, she didn’t even have a right to be asking such things of people. With writhing grimy hands. Greasy hair. And Fatherless forever.

“So you’ve finally figured your fate eh?” a voice whispered in Sarn’s ear. It must have been the crazed man’s; it had that sway to it. The Crazed man began to crackle and laugh at Sarn. Each laugh brought waves of surrender over Sarn. She let bitter tears fall. There was nothing she could do to do anything. She was weak.

“heh…. “The Crazed man finally stopped his laughing. He kneeled down where Sarn lay, and pulled up her hair, bringing a broken face with it. Tears welled up and fell, streaking dirt, and a little blood. The crazed man simply looked at her face, and then slammed it into the dirt, like her face was some bottom of an ugly rock. Sarn didn’t do anything, she couldn’t do anything. The world was once again distant, it didn’t matter to her anymore, and there was no point in her living anymore. Father was gone.

The Crazed man stood up, and kicked Sarn in the head, on the side of her neck. Dots exploded in her vision, and if possible, everything went number, she couldn’t feel the dirt beneath her. Her neck hurt like it had been cut or even stabbed. When the Crazed man bent down to pick her up she couldn’t feel him pulling her hair. Sarn felt like she was falling, the world was spinning before her, she closed her eyes, and it was over.

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Sarn woke with a start, her wrists pulling against iron cuffs. The harsh cold metal tight on her little wrists. The chains were rather heavy. Her ankles were bound as well. Someone had gagged her while she was asleep. She was lying on her side, and her neck ached. Her arm was falling asleep from her laying on it for a while. He stomach had an empty feeling, her throat dry from so much crying, and inhaling the smoke. Her whole body ached, especially her heart. She thought about her father, his smiling face she would never see again. Her throat closed up, tears blurred her vision. The last moments of her father’s life flashed in her mind, his pleas for mercy, not to hurt her. Even in his last moments he was thinking about Sarn, his beloved. Sobs shook her little body, she felt so alone, no one cared about her, and she was practically useless. Unwanted in the world.

“Hey,” a low voice, maybe a young man, barely audible, brought Sarn out of her depression. “Hang in there, alright, they want to discipline you, make you feel weak and animal like, something they can sell.”

Sarn looked up into the eyes of her father’s murder, Karath. How could he understand, why don’t they just lock him in chains, kill his dad and see how he takes it? And then sell him is that what he said? Was Sarn considered property now? Not just a useless little girl, worse, just something you could lightly auction off? Sarn filled her gaze with the most powerful emotion she had felt, pure hatred.

Karath seemed a bit taken aback; he looked away, overcome by guilt. Sarn just glared at him, she wanted to scream, to hit him, to even maybe kill him. But would that bring her father back? Even if she killed Karath, that wouldn’t bring her father, her home, her village back. Hopelessness overcome her, fresh painful tears, slid down her face, she laid in a fetal position. She screamed, but the sound was enveloped by the gag, she tried to inhale through her mouth, and the gag suffocated her, she breathed deep breaths in through her nose trying to calm down, but it was no use, her sobs overcame her.

“Hey, calm down, they may hear you and punish you, worse than just a kick to the gut, ummm…..calm breaths….” Karath was trying to comfort Sarn, Sarn shifted her position so he back was to Karath, to show she didn’t care for him, his advice was useless, she clearly knew her terrible position, and she didn’t want him to rub it in. Salt on a freshly open wound.

Sarn was glad she had long black hair to cover her face, she didn’t want Karath seeing her like this, her father’s murder, seeing her so weak, and hopeless. She sobbed facing away from Karath, her tears flowing freely. Cold streaks the same as the others, but these were more familiar, with the same devastating feeling to them.

Sarn heard shuffling footsteps, not Karath’s and someone sneered. “Heh, this is hilarious, just wait till’ your father finds out, man will he be embarrassed!”

Sarn couldn’t see Karath whip around face full of shame, and anger. “I’m just kneeling by the captive, how could that prove anything?”

Sarn could tell Karath was terrible at defending himself, a man who never chose his words very carefully.

The man, who spoke first, probably the crazed man, began to laugh maniacally. “Why do you even bother your breath on that Thing!? It’s nothing, its fate is set!”

With a shudder Sarn figured they were talking about her, she was an it!? It was over; clearly her meaning of life was gone. But Karath was here, defending her…. Kinda. With her hands, feet, and mouth bound, she really couldn’t do anything. She let slip a little sob.

“Will someone please silence that noise that’s giving me a headache!?” The crazed man said, rubbing his temples.

Sarn heard shuffling, and a boot was planted firmly on her head, she abruptly stopped her sobbing, as best she could. But that wasn’t enough; the man towering over her picked up her by her hair, and dragged her a few yards into the woods. Sarn saw Karath’s face, He looked like he knew exactly what was going to happen, his eyes a bit horror struck. Sarn just glared back at him, she hated him, he tried helping her, and now something bad was going to happen, she was sure. Everything was his fault he was so stupid!

The man, who dragged Sarn away, took something from his pocket, bringing out some keys, and a pair of scissors. The man knelt down to Sarn, and unlocked her chains. Before Sarn could register what he was doing, he shoved her quickly against a thick nearby tree. Sarn’s gag fell out of her open mouth, and unraveled itself. Her face sandwiched between the man and her, she yelped, and her head spun from impact. Rough hands reached out and grabbed her little wrists, Sarn put up a wimpy fight, pulling away, she was clearly outnumbered, and outstrenghted. Again her wrists were bound, this time by irritating rope. The man behind her tossed her ratty hair over Sarn’s shoulders. Sarn felt a cold piece of metal on the back of her neck, she panicked. She thrashed, about, but a hand grabbed her shoulder, and held her stiff.

“What…. Are you doing!?” She asked, her breath puffing strands of her hair out of her face. Her face felt hot, and flustered. The crazed man didn’t say anything, he had snuck up while this little scuffle was going on, and was watching Sarn struggle, with a malevolent smile playing his lips. The cold piece of metal had slithered to the small of her back, and it sent a shiver through Sarn. Little Goosebumps traveled across her skin like soldiers before a battle. Fear spread through her intestines like an infection, stealing her breath, and twisting her stomach into grotesque spirals. Suddenly the men were quiet, and a blood curling whish, then a crack. Then the whish came again, fire ignited on Sarn’s back, there was no light, but she screamed, a shrill cry, fading into the woods like it ate her voice. The fire kept coming, burning, everything, her back, draining her legs, making her shoulders slump, burning black dots into her vision. She felt like she was going to die, this was the end; she was ready to accept death, and jump into her father’s arms, wherever he was. Tears blurred her vision, they burned too. They never left scars, but they hurt just as much as each crack of the whip and burning slash across her little back.