Escape

The snow had just started to fall, tiny little flakes lazily drifting down from the heavens. The day was coming close to an end as I continued walking up the hill. The once bearable air got colder - stealing what little heat I had left. It was quite, like the quite where the woods' hold its breathe. I kept looking over my shoulder expecting to see something, anything and all I saw was the snow. It started to stick to the tall grass besides the path, and on the ground. The trees began to get that white frosting on it's branches. I lifted my fingers and felt the tiny snow pile upon my head. This use to bring a smile upon my lips, but it only left my feeling empty and sad. It mad my heart wrench at the thought of never being in a snowball fight again with my brother, or talking about the snow covered landscape with my mother.

Off in the distance a bird cawed. The snow began to pick up, and also became a little thicker. I could not stop and get lost in the snow's hypnotic fall, I had to keep going, mom told me not to stop and think but to just keep walking. The air was so cold that to breathe hurt. It was seeping into every pore on my body: my toes, my fingers, my nose, my ears were all starting to feel the wrath of winter. Off in the distance I heard noises. I had to keep going, I no longer had a choice.

As I walked toward the crest in the hill, the noises got louder. I could now tell that there were men, horses, and a few dogs over the rise. What were so many men and animals doing out in the middle of the woods? Then it dawned on me - it had to be an army of some sort! I had to find out, if they were good or bad. If they were our army I might be able to get some food and warm clothes - but if they were bad? . . . I dared not to think what would happen. I began to watch my ever foot step making sure that I was so quite I would not even wake a mouse. When I could finally see the camp, my fears became true for it was the invading army.

My town had been attacked two nights prior by the Halation army. My family didn't make it, my mom helped me escape the women's slave prison and I've been alone ever since. I don't know if anyone from my town made it - I pray they did. Or if they didn't, I pray that their agony was swift and that they were set free from the pain. I began my descent back down the mountain looking for a place to spend the night. I had to find a way around the army - for to be caught would be worse then death - especially for a woman like me.

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I've been listening to the Gladiator sound track. That is my all time favorite movie!! I wonder if you can tell?

A Dance in Honor

BAH!! I've had to listen to this song like 2395809458 times! I still can't think of anything - and again - I fear I'll be writing about death/memories. I promise you I think of other things besides that - I've been writing other things besides that!! I don't know why. I had a really rough week last week. So maybe that's influencing my writing??? Hmmmm . . . we shall see. . .

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It's weird to think that my mother will never walk through our front door - or come watch me at my dance recitals again. I keep thinking she will, even though I know that she won't. Dad took it pretty hard - and he hasn't been the same since we got the news. He tries to pretend for "us kids" but you can tell that the smile doesn't quite touch his eyes or when you look into his eyes, you can see the pain lurking just behind - waiting to completely claim him at night. The night we found out will stay vivid in my mind.

Mom had been away at a business trip and was coming home that night. Dad ordered pizza to celebrate and we watched a movie too! It was midnight when the movie finished and Jake and I had just gotten into bed when there was a knock at the door. Dad went to go answer it and since Jake and I are inquisitive kids we snuck down and looked. We saw to cops at the door and they looked uncomfortable talking to dad. I tried to think if I had done anything wrong - I had just gotten my license and as far as I knew I'd been obeying the law. Suddenly dad started crying. We've never seen him cry - not even when he broke his foot. The cops said goodbye and dad closed the door and stared at it for some time.

He looked to the stairs and saw us standing there. He motioned us to come forward and told us. Jake instantly started crying for mom, but I couldn't. It was like everything inside me froze. I felt empty. How could mom not come home? That didn't make sense. That morning on the phone we were talking about my dance recital the following week! She was supposed to come! She has too! This can't be right - it's some mean prank that the cops or someone is playing on us. It has to be. But then why would dad by crying and not laughing?

That night was hard to sleep. I kept hearing dad crying and Jake too - but still I couldn't cry? Did that mean I didn't love her? Does that mean I'm a bad daughter? Or was I still in shock? Isn't that what psychologist would've said? I looked at my night table where a picture of mom and I at the park that summer and finally cried myself to sleep.

The week pasted so slowly and painfully. Everyone kept saying how sorry they were for us - I wish they wouldn't. I wish they'd keep their mouths shut and just stayed away. I know they're trying to be helpful - but hearing it over and over and over again - it is just too painful! When we went to the funeral late Wednesday night dad, Jake and I had to stand and shake everyone's hand. I hated that place. It was too cold and it was too sweet from all the flowers. The faces blurred and names became forgotten. People I had never meet came up to me shaking my hand saying how sorry they were for me, but I wanted to be left alone. No one had left us alone to heal. People kept calling us or visiting - afraid of how "us kids" would take it. I looked at Jake and he seemed to think the same thing I did. When everyone left we finally got to be alone with mom. We each said our goodbyes and how much we loved her. I told her of my recital on Friday and how the dance would be for her, how I loved her, and how I'd someday see her once again.

When Friday night rolled around I was nervous. One of the dance teachers pulled me aside and said someone wanted to wish me luck. She pointed the direction off stage - where parents and kids meet before the performances and thought that that was strange. My dad was going to be a little late because Jake was just finishing up his baseball game, and no one else was going to come. I walked a little further down the hallway and saw mom. I must have been hallucinating . . . right? She walked over to me and gave me a kiss and a hug and told me how happy and proud she was of me. She told me she'd always watch my performances and that she'd always be with us. Someone called my name and I turned to look - and when I turned back to face mom she wasn't there.

It was my turn to dance. When I walked on stage I looked for dad and Jake and saw them. I felt a kiss on my cheek and knew it was mom. I cued the guy and the music started. I danced in honor of mom and it was the best dance recital I've had yet.