A short story…

This was written by a 13-year old of my acquaintance, and I thought it was rather fabulous and wanted to share it.  I trust you’ll enjoy it as I did.

Princess of the Flames

I knew that he had no idea how I had got out again.

He had done everything: bolted the door, taken down the ladder, locked the windows, and yet he still discovered that I had some means of escape when he left for town and saw me there.  I shouldn’t have run when I saw him. He wouldn’t have taken any notice of me then.  

Once I knew he had seen me I did not run any farther – I knew it would have been useless and he would have caught me eventually.  In fact, all it would have done was madden him, and he had little sanity anyway.  So I just turned, and stopped, and let him snarl at me the whole way back to the house he was keeping me in.  However, once I had sat down on the cold, hard ground next to the fireplace, my cooperation lost existence.

I could feel him looking at me from the back, but no matter how persistent the feeling of someone staring at me was, I continued gazing into the happy, dancing flames.

“How did you escape?” His gravelly voice broke into the still silence.

I turned to him then, my eyes pummeling straight into his, which were colder than the snow outside and more loveless than his heart.  No words escaped my lips.  I knew what would happen if they did.  And it would end in me washing my blood from my face.  But I did not cry either.  I just kept my face as still and smooth as ice, showing no fear in my expression.

He smiled a sickly smile at me.  Is that meant to be reassuring?

“Tasia, if you want any food any time soon, you’d better tell me how you got out.”  I could tell by the tone in his voice that he didn’t plan on letting me get away with not telling him.

Don’t speak, DON’T SPEAK!  “Why do you keep me here?”  I swore and spat at myself in my mind, wishing, hoping and praying that he wouldn’t hit me again.

Once again the sticky-sweet smile was plastered into his features, and he was very calm – surprisingly so – in his reply. “Why, because when they realize that the princess is missing,” he chuckled as I grimaced at the title, “they will surely pay a high price to get their lost princess back.”

“But I wasn’t lost!” I yelled, knowing that I was giving him what he wanted by showing anger at his remarks.  “I ran away! I…” I sighed, “I could have been happy.  I could’ve been free, my own person.  Whoever I wanted me to be.  I could’ve – no, I would’ve – climbed mountains, ridden on clouds, touched stars.  But even running didn’t bring me freedom.  It brought me to you,” I spat.

His smile dripped off his face, and he suddenly got a look in his eyes that could send the bravest of men to his grave.

But I was no man, cowardly or otherwise, and I knew what was coming.  And as his hand quickly swung towards my head, I swiftly grabbed his arm, and used the force and energy that he had used to try to hit me against him, and dragged him in one quick movement into the fire, head first.

He leapt back almost as quickly as he had gone in, and after leaping about to put out the fire on his head, he yelled after me as I ran out of the room, “One day, you spawn of Satan, I will kill you.”

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8 comments on “A short story…

  1. Yikes! It sure makes me want to read more… Will there be more?

  2. That’s really rather good 🙂

  3. m.m. Fahren says:

    Just my sort of thing. Immediacy is the word that sprints in. I am not going, “O, no, I am going to have to read this little jewel so I can say I read it.” Nope. It leaps right on like its flames.

  4. mandyeward says:

    Reblogged this on and commented:
    From this generation to the next – isn’t this a great beginning line? –
    I knew that he had no idea how I had got out again.

    Tension, back story, hook – all in one sentence. It makes me glad to be a writer when a thirteen year old can do this…

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