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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1730807-The-Runaways
by Anna
Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Action/Adventure · #1730807
Three beautiful kids with nothing to lose and everything to hide.
"You can't be serious!" shouted Uncle Elward, his floppy mouth and beady eyes glaring at his young niece. "This slop would make a pig sick for weeks. Throw it out, you worthless ninny! Shoulda gave you away when I had the chance." He stalked away, pulling up his baggy trousers. Bree sighed, and picking up the big pot, threw the contents out the window. It had been a long hard day in the kitchen, and Bree could feel her last once of energy leaving her. A beautiful girl, with long, flowing black hair, big, almond green eyes, and a small nose, and small pink, mouth, she was the prettiest girl in her town. Even Emma, the gorgeous blond next door, confessed Bree was the star of Treselwood Village. She untied the filthy apron from her thin waist, and headed out back, to her bedroom. Once an outhouse, it had been built on, to make room for two boys that had come to live with the Glend family that year. The two boys, handsome, and charming, were like brothers. One, dark features, broad shoulders, and tall, while the other, light skinned, fair haired and slightly shorter. Kevin and Micheal. They were the heart throbs of the village, and every girl wanted a kiss upon her cheek by one of the two handsome boys, though the only girl they wanted to kiss was their Bree.

"Hey, guys." she said, pushing aside the thin wooden door, and climbing into her warm bundle of hay. Kevin, like usual, was sitting on the small table, leaning against the wall, carefully cutting away small bits of wood from his miniature sculpture. Micheal, eyes closed and hand clutching the small dog bone he always carried with him, was silent. "Oh, no. Don't get excited that I'm here. It's fine, fine. I don't feel like getting a hi from you two at all, nope, none."

"Hey, Bree." smiled Micheal, opening his eyes, and putting his bone away. "How was your day?" he sat beside her, snuggling as close as the hay would let him.

"Okay. Boring. Horrible. Same old, same old I guess. What about you two? Anything good happen on the trip to the trading post?"

"Long, hard, and cold." said Kevin, taking the seat on her other side.

"You know, Uncle Glend is leaving real early tomorrow morning, which means..."

"He went to be real early." finished Kevin.

"Bree, I think tonights the night to leave." said Micheal, casually.

"Guys, I know you want to get out of here-"

"We."

"But if I left suspicion would rise, and everyone would know."

"It was an accident Bree. You didn't mean to kill her."

"Tell that to Uncle. All he saw was the knife in her gut, and I knew right then and there, no mercy would be shown to the murderer. I don't want to die yet."

"Bree, I've been working on something." said Micheal, suddenly. Taking out his dog bone, he walked to the center of the room and closed his eyes, keeping the bone clasped in his palm. Bree waited, her breath held with anticipation. All of a sudden, a burst of fire came out of Micheals unoccupied palm, and circled three times around him before fizzeling out. Gasping, Bree stood up, speechless and shaken.

"Micheal..."

"I told you my mother was a sorceress. This bone, this is the channel to my magic. I'm not very powerful yet, but I'm getting there. At least with this bit of magic we can scare your Uncle into letting us go. Kevin can morph, of course. And you can use your Death Songs."

"And expose ourselves? What do you think they do to fifteen year olds who can do supernatural things? We would be jailed, beaten, hung!"

"Bree-"

"No, I'm not going and that's final!" Pulling a rough, thin blanket over her head, she rolled into a ball, and pushed herself as far in the hay as she could go. Within ten minutes, she felt the boys get up, and the light cut off, leaving her in the darkness, surrounded by her evergrowing nightmares.

It was two a.m. when Bree woke up, disgruntled and confused. Kevin was shaking her roughly, and she could faintly hear Micheal shouting.

"Get up, Bree! Now, before they get here!" He pulled her up, knocking over a cookbook on the table, scattering its contents throughout the room.

"What did you do?" she asked, her vision blurry.

"We are free, we can leave! Micheal used his sorcery to scare your Uncle, and I changed into a dog so I could go looking for the keys. I overheard him one day saying he kept them under the sausages. Come on!" She felt her legs running, and her heart racing, but her mind was still not clear. What day was it? What time? She heard an angry shout, coming from her left, and recgonized it as her Uncles. Suddenly, Micheal raised his hands and out poured a stream of multi- colored fire, catching onto her Uncles clothes.



“You filthy devils! Come back here!” he wheezed, clutching his aching sides.

“Use your Death Song Bree! Get us out of here!” shouted Kevin. Nodding, she started to sing, shaky at first, but got stronger.

Take us far, far away

Rid us of this miserable hate

Protect us please, oh mighty fate

Let us leave, this horrible place

Slowly, a wind blew around the three, get faster as Bree repeated the lines. They didn’t stop running until a subtle haze of black surrounded them, and within seconds, they were gone, teleported away. Uncle Elward stood, staring at the place where his niece had been standing just moments before.





“Where are we?” asked Bree, looking around to see a quiet field of tall, billowing grass, hugging them gently.

“I don’t know, but we’re free. Your song worked, Bree. We’re free!” laughed Kevin, hugging the girl.

“Let’s go. Can’t stand here forever.” Said Michael.

“But where?” Bree asked.

“Wherever we want.”

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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1730807-The-Runaways