this is a one shot that I wrote recently, only about 1 and a half pages, which is pretty short for me. This is based on a quote I read in 6th grade. It is historical. See if you can guess the time period. :razz:
Whisper
Dim clouds covered the horizon, letting very little sunlight to caress the cobblestone street. Carts and carriages were moved slowly, coming to a sudden stop as they were haphazardly abandoned.
Soon the streets were quiet. All eyes riveted to the oncoming ceremony.
Metal bars shook and bodies trembled within their confines.
The steady rhythm of the horseshoes echoed ominously, a countdown to the end. The prisoners rocked back and forth, jarred by uneven ground and rickety wheels.
They prayed, prayed fervently for a miracle? allowing themselves to weep silently at the apathetic gazes of their fellowmen; men who they had once called friends.
They had chosen. Now they regretted.
All but she, a silent widow who watched on silently, regretted their choice. The world had ended for her long ago when her husband had died for his country, a country falling apart by fabricated seams.
The round bars hindered their sight of the morning, but did little to protect against the angry words that spewed forth from around them.
?Traitors!?
?Kill them! Kill them!?
The voices were but innocent whispers to her, mere fleeting shadows in her consciousness.
The red fruit that lined the bottom of the jail cell captivated her. She did not flinch as seed and flesh smeared across her dress, her face, her sleeves.
Red. So red.
The same as the color of that man, that noble that she had so willingly placed her blade into. The color that had flowed, and coated her hands as she confessed to the crime.
So warm, so familiar.
The doors were opened, gasps of fear and disbelief heard. The sky had darkened to a violent grey.
Arms were grasped, bodies were pulled; the countdown had ended.
The shouts of the riled crowd made her companions tremble. Their lips moved silently over muted words of apology. They stood in on queue, waiting for their name to be announced.
Still, she was first, led roughly by her chains, motivated by her own heartbeat. She was first, the one they were unable to break.
Wooden stairs, rickety, creaking, echoing with the last footsteps of a fallen angel- her hair burned with the Devil?s hand, her heart blackened and cold.
Bent, then pushed forward, head between the stocks. Splinters found their way into her collar as she was positioned.
She heard her name, then a final plea of repentance from a man she could not see, the voice superior and pious. Rigid, and full of corruption. The voice mourned for lives her cared naught for, praying for souls already damned.
The words fell as whispers upon her ears.
Her eyes fluttered closed, a final breath of the stale morning air?
But then? a light. Dim, but growing in intensity. Bright?very bright.
The sky wept.
Pinpricks against their skin, cold, shivering bodies. Mere fleeting essence upon hers, she could not feel it.
She smiled.
The light shined with his approval.
He had loved her.
He had forgiven her. She was redeemed.
The sound of sharp metal, a faint swish of air. And numbness? the fleeting feeling as her body slumped.
A cool whisper against the back of the neck.
Her husband smiled.
~Fin
Whisper [One-shot]
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That was really a beautiful story. What was the quote it was based on? Anyway, my guess for time period . . . I really thought it was American Revolution at first, for some reason, but by the end I was pretty sure it was the French revolution. But who did she kill? Anyway, it was really a great piece.
- I always wanted to be somebody, but I should have been more specific.
- Jane Wagner
Life is hard. After all, it kills you.
- Katherine Hepburn
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