“The man’s face was scraped raw by sand, blood stained his beard, which was long and unkempt, hung in thick strands past his chest. Blood dribbled slowly from the corner of his mouth, which was twisted in a grimace of agony.”
The world was bleeding.
As far as the eye could see there was a barren wasteland.
Nothing.
Blood soaked the acrid ground leaving a macabre work of art, and bodies-
Oh god, are those people?
They laid on the ground, cold lifeless eyes staring up into the scorching sun. Choking down a wave of nausea, she ran to them. Carrion birds pecked at their eyes, leaving large red gaping holes.
Oh god, it can’t be.
“Go away!” the little girl shouted at the birds, their beaks red with blood. Her voice was raw, it scraped against her throat painfully, as if she had swallowed sand.
Please, please oh no.
Rolling a body over, the stench making her stomach churn, she prayed.
Please don’t be her, please.
The man’s face was scraped raw by sand, blood stained his beard, which was long and unkempt, hung in thick strands past his chest. Blood dribbled slowly from the corner of his mouth, which was twisted in a grimace of agony. He had taken many wounds before collapsing in the burning sun.
Thank god.
No, no, what was she thinking!
Tasting blood.
Tearing at her hair.
The smell, oh god, no.
He’s dead.
She must be, too.
“SHUT UP!” the little girl shrieked, holding her head in her hands, hot tears ran down her face as she stared up into the unrelenting sun.
A warm hand landed on her shoulder.
She’s alive!
Bloody and bruised but alive.
“Sis.”
A smile, a strange awkward attempt of a smile crossed her sister’s lips. Heavy racking sobs shook the little girls small frame as she clung onto the older girl.
“I’m here, now,” her sister said, hugging her.
And at that moment, despite all the chaos and despair, the little girl knew that everything would be all right.