\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1741888-A-life-in-the-shadows-prt-2
Item Icon
Rated: 13+ · Other · Other · #1741888
The soldiers aren't typical, almost from the beginning all they would know is the nation.
Ch 1
Father I do not know
Mother who has let me go
All there is the nation
That took me under its wings
But I am not the daughter
I am not the son
I am the soldier
I am the warrior
But I am also the child
The child who never met you
-unknown


         The stars shone above a small unknown town. Almost all of the townspeople were fast asleep except for the occupants of one home. Inside, lit candles casting a dim glow, there was a young woman and a child cradled in her arms. She hummed the melody to a lullaby she had grown up with, a lullaby that her child would never hear from her after tonight.
         The sound of horses made her sit up with her back straight, only to sigh and sink into herself once more, looking down at the small infant in her arms. It was almost time to say goodbye, their time together was drawing to a close, as she heard the sound of voices coming closer to her home.
         The month old child stirred, scrunching up her face unhappily as if sensing something was wrong with her mother.
         “Hush it’s ok, everything will be just fine, don’t worry angel o’ mine.”
         With those words, the door swung open to reveal two men, the cold air that entered caused a few candles to flicker uncertainly, but not causing any to go out.
         The smaller of the two sat himself on the chair across from her, a piece of rolled of paper in his grasp, “So now it is time. Are you sure with your decision?”
         The woman nodded looking once more at her child, as the paper was placed before her along with an ink pot and quill. Her hand hesitated above the dotted line, causing a drop of ink to fall onto the paper. The dreams of a little one running around laughing, clinging to the skirt of her dress, of brushing and braiding long hair, of a childish voice calling for mommy, of lullabies and fairytales, and more such dreams, would just disappear with the signing of her name.
         The taller, and younger, man touched her arm gently. His voice snapped her out of her despair.
         “Miss, are you okay?”
         She nodded as she took a look at her home. It was old and rundown, not a good place to raise a child. She reminded herself that she barely had money for herself, let alone a child and she had no idea who the father was, so no help there. The town itself was no help to her either, a forgotten town that many have overlooked, filled with violence and poverty. If the child stayed she would die from sickness or starvation before she turned five.
         Her mind made up, she dipped the pen once more into the ink and wrote her name on the contract. They waited for it to dry, before it was rolled up and tucked away for safe keeping, the tall one reached out towards her to take her child.
         “Please, you’ll take good care of her right?” she just had to ask, even though she heard the rumours of what happened to the taken children.
         As his partner turned and walked out the door, soothingly he said “Of course, we’ll take good care of her; she seems like a healthy and bright child. She’ll go a long way.”
         “No you don’t understand; please promise me, that you’ll take care of her. Please.” She pleaded knowing that he could at anytime just take the child from her, but she just wanted to try at least for her sake.
         At her pleading look, his gaze softened. This was only his second pick-up and he hadn’t yet acquired the blank mask that the others had. The many babes reminding him of his little siblings all safe at home, “She will be fine, now please, Miss, the child?”
         It wasn’t exactly a promise, but for her it was good enough as any. She hummed gently that last few notes of the lullaby that she had started previously, one last kiss was placed on the child’s forehead, and with that the child was cradled in a different pair of arms, “It’s Anne. Her name is Anne, ok?”
He nodded in understanding, tucking the blanket around the child, before turning to leave without another word.
         He and his companion entered the carriage that was a few feet by the house, and with a flick of the driver’s reins they were off. In the young man’s arms, the infant stirred, emerald green eyes that she took after her mother opened. Tears were falling as she cried for a person who was no longer there, the only comfort coming from the man who now held her.
         Back in the old rundown house, the woman still sits in her chair. From the slightly ajar door, the wind blew in, causing all of the candles’ flames to be snuffed out. The sun began to rise, chasing away the stars and moon. Watching as she allowed a tear to roll down her cheek and fall to the ground. The child was now gone.
© Copyright 2011 Thinkwrite (wittenword at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1741888-A-life-in-the-shadows-prt-2