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Years Ago

Years Ago

by Flicker Greenridge

In her youth, little Flicker Greenridge lived in a little town in a little home above a little shop on the side of the road. The shop was run by her father, Mathieu, a charismatic merchant who would often pull Flicker away from her studies to meet his customers. He would say that learning the stories, the cultures, and the languages of the newcomers would be far more beneficial than any arithmetic. Though Juniper, Flicker's mother, would disagree, she was equally distracting. She was a potter by trade, and though she spent many hours teaching her daughter to read and write she also spent many hours taking her to dig up clay and find pigments. June's creations were well received and Mat was well liked. Together the two were making a comfortably modest life for their child.
 
One night, Flicker's parents roughly shook her awake. They had been roused by the smell of smoke and a great commotion outside, shouting and screaming getting closer each moment. Bleary eyed from sleep, Flicker stumbled out of bed and took her mother's hand as the three hurriedly made their way down the steps into the shop. As they were headed towards the back door the world went black.
 
It was still night when Flicker came to, lying on the ground on her stomach, but everything seemed hazier. She couldn't see her mother or father, the ruins of their second story surrounding her. As her senses fully awakened, searing pain across her back became prominent. She inhaled and her lungs burned. She tried to get up and realized she was pinned, a wooden beam on top of her.
 
Panic overwhelmed her. Flicker squirmed, writhing beneath the beam, the splintered wood digging into her skin further with each movement. Her hands shot out, trying to claw at anything she could to gain purchase and pull herself free. She was met with only shards of her mother's smashed ceramics, embedding themselves into her palms, her injuries mixing with the dirt and debris on the floor. Her breathing quickened and hitched, gasping, gulping, swallowing short clipped breaths of air, desperate to get out, desperate to scream.
 
She didn't know what was happening. She didn't know where her family was. She didn't know how to get out. She was trapped and terrified, helpless and hurt.
 
Frantic.
 
Alone.
 
Underneath.
 
In the dark.
 
 
 
 

Continue reading...

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by 3 Armored Kittens · Prodromos v.1.1 - World Anvil 0.9.15.035 © 2017-2024 [en] | Anvil Time: 11:30, Oct 5 2024