Forgotten

Chapter 1

      My hand which was in a fist stuck to my side as I briskly walked in the woods while my other held my dark brown arrow. I chewed on a handful of honeysuckles and was in deep thought about the tragic events happening to my life. I bet you're all like, what the hell is going on and who is this? Well I'll go into detail about my life and the tragic events happening to my young life.
      My name is Sophia Ballot, I'm 16 years old and have a pretty boring life. My life is pretty much like any other teenagers life. I have a boyfriend by the name "Mitchell" but all my friends call him Mitch. But like any other citizens of my city he was moved to a refugee camp. I hope to see him again. My mother refused to go to the camps she said "they are just a big target for the French.".
      Now about my tragic events. In 2017 which was 2 years ago my country was flourishing with gold, diamond, and oil. Which got the French's attention. They then declared war on my beautiful country. Almost everyone in Quebec took the side French.  The war had just started with a couple murders then to mass blood baths and eventually war planes bombed Toronto and Ottawa eventually killing our prime minister. Though that didn't stop our army from fighting. But soon our city was bombed and attacked. My mother, my younger sister, and I fled to the woods eventually finding an abandoned storm shelter. My father was at work that day and the building he worked in happened to be a skyscraper and it was bombed.

There was no survivors.

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Thump.
Thump
Thump
Was the sound of a prairie chicken who began to fly from its branch. Almost instantly I grabbed for an arrow and placed it between to string and wood handle of the bow. I closed my one eye, aimed and fired. The bow whistle screaming through the air and struck the chicken sending it almost effortlessly to the ground. A smile creased across my face as I picked the chicken up. It was still moving so I layed it on the ground onto a rock and smashed it's head between the 2 rocks. I picked it up and began walking as the warm, crimson, flowing syrup of life dropped between my cold, wet fingers. I would have gaged at it a couple days ago but that was how my new life was, you fight to survive or you die.

Soon the storm shelter's doors which were the same level

as the ground come into view. I began to jog towards the doors. I slowly opened the creaking doors and walked down the stairs. I felt droplets of the chickens blood fall onto my dirty jeans. I found my mother cleaning the wooden table off with a ripped rag and my 8 month old sister Georgia sleeping peacefully in her crib. I placed the chicken on the clean kitchen table and my mother uncontrollably let out a scream of terror. I jumped.
"Mom!" I snapped.
"Sophia Ballot!" My mother roared. I froze my mother barely called me by my full name only when I was in trouble. She put her hands on her hips and sighed. "Sophia, please go tend to the chicken out side!" She said wrinkling her nose at the dead chicken whose head was basically flat as paper.

I picked it up and carried it outside and set it on the ground. I stepped on it's wings and pulled up using it's feet as handles. The skin peeled off the chicken. I smiled. Supper is going to be amazing tonight. I pronounced in my head to myself.

I gutted it by cutting its head off and removing all the internal organs. I gaged a bit because the smell was blood curdling.

That night I climbed one of the trees above the storm shelter and waited for any wild animals to come out. I had left some chicken organs so it worked for bait.
I waited
And waited
And waited
And waited
And waited.
Still no animal came. It had begun to rain so I decided I'd better climb down and go to bed. But just as I began to climb down I heard voices. My heart raced. Were they Canadian military or French savages? I prayed to God hopping they wouldn't find the storm shelter who ever it was. Eventually a dark figure came into view and then another
And another
And another
Soon there were 7 men. One lite a lantern. When the light was shinning brightly it revealed the solders true identify.
They were French.