Broken Marionette

10K Special

The blonde girl, began to get crushed in the mass number of bodies around her. The grip on her companions hand becoming strained and she got carried away by the crowed. She made numerous attempts at pushing past them, but she was simply too weak. Her frail arms held no strength whatsoever.

"Mal! Mal , hold on!" Yelled Azazel, trying to push the past in between them. But just like the girl he was too weak, unable to hold onto the girl. "Zel!" called out the scared blonde, her hand outreached. Her jewelled blue eyes widening in horror, as she watched her best friend get dragged further and further away by the crowd. Her body froze, mind turning numb as she allowed the crowd to carry her all the way to0 the back. Where she forcefully dragged her feet to a quiet alleyway.

Sitting herself down on a pile of crates, leaning against the red brick wall. Bringing up her knees in her arms, and burring her facing in them. The tears prickling at the back of her eye, but she refused to let them fall. She was felt scared, and for many reasons. Azazel was no with her, and he was her rock. The one who kept her sain and grounded in the hell that there forced to endure. So many times -Too many times- has she felt like giving up, ending it all. But he kept on giving her reasons to live. Empty promises that she knew would never come true, but couldn't help but feel comforted by.

They were both each others rocks. How many times have they held one another in their arms as they both cried their hearts out. How many times have they stayed up late at night, talking about a future they knew was far too out of reach. Too many for them to keep count of.

And Mallory didn't wan to lose him. So she lifted her head, a heart full o f confidence and determination pumping through her veins. She smacks herself on the cheeks, removing any sort of physical sadness from her body. Pushing herself off the crates, tugging the tip of the hood over her head, she walked out of the alleyways. Walking in the direction, in which she last saw Azazel being carried away in.

Though some people stopped and stared at her, whispering in hushed voices to the people beside them as they continued to stare at the girl. Some looked at her in disgust, other in confusion and very few in pity. She was to expect this. A girl, clearly shorter then average for people her age, dressed in a single brown rag that was filled with random sown patches of fabrics. Coming down to her shins, her feet wearing brown ballet flat, which looked they were hanging on by a single thread. The cloak concealing her figure, only further the arouse the suspicions of the common folk. Though to many it seemed lie the girl was from either the slums or a lowly prostitution centre. Her blonde locks however seemed to pique the interest of others, as it's colour was one that awns common. Brightly coloured hair were mainly found among the aristocrats, so for person of a low status to have such was indeed going to turn some heads. But no one could catch sight of her eyes. Though despite all this, everyone seems to have the similar thought of steering clear.

Mallory continues walking forward, her previous confidence slowly dwindling by each pair of eyes that bore into her figure. But each time she felt like crumpling down onto her knees, she remembered her mothers sweet voice. A practice that was common for the girl, her mothers final message ringing clear in her head. But she doesn't think she'll ever be able to fulfill it and it pained her in ways that words couldn't express.

The blonde girl, found herself bumping in to a larger figure in front of her. She was so lost in thought she became unaware of her surroundings. Due to her weak stature, she ended up falling down on to the pavement on her behind. "Huh?" said a deep and confused voice. Looking down at the girl accidently pushed on to the flor. "Oh, My bad" apologised the male, reaching his hand out for the girl. "O-Oh no it's fine. It was also my fault" stuttered the girl, as she hesitantly took his hand. The male lifted her back on to her feet, with single thought in his mind 'She's a lot lighter than I thought.'