I was a practice girl for nearly 10 years. When I heard word of my first born. The monsters son.
He was alive. Working in the mine. Someone named him Zeek.
I am not sure I was happy, but part of me was relieved to heard that he made it.
I lay here. Scabs riddled my small emaciated body. Catching the sickness only known as aids is a death sentence for any training girl. They stop feeding you, only giving you broth when they are nice.
I lay there waiting for my end. My mouth filled with white it hurts so badly to swallow.
The talk of a cough sweeping throughout Auction means my time is getting close.
Looking back on my life. I try and remember the good things. The only good thing that ever happened was being rid of him. Killing him.
The older women came in to clean my wounds, and change my bedding. They were nice, but never spoke.
My death will be soon. Echoed through my thoughts as one of the women lets out a cough.
YOU ARE READING
Stolen ~ Book #2
Short StoryGrowing up you learn things from everything around you. Your parents, siblings, events, and if you are lucky enough to be aloud to read books, I was not that lucky. I looked forward to going to Auction, to learn much more then my quite life offered...
