Leaves crunched under her feet as she flashed a look behind her to make sure she was still being followed by the small group. The child she held sensed her urgency and stayed silent. She waved her arm, urging the band of escapees to hurry faster, pointing to a glow in the distance.
She felt rain start stinging her face as she blinked it away and pressed on. The trail dipped slightly and the tree line disappeared, exposing a wide, gentle river. They could see a small boat bobbing on the bank as storm clouds began to swirl overhead and heavy rain pelted them.
The man holding the lantern aloft whistled above the thunder and the group made their way over, the women leaping in first as the men helped load the children. The leader stretched forward to hand the child into the extended arms of the man, her left foot stuck in the cold river, soaking her feeble shoe.
Just as the child was plucked from her hands, a horrible crack of lightning struck her chest and blew her away from the boat. The crew screamed:
“ASTRID!”
She could hear them wailing but their voices were muffled by the blood rushing in her ears. Her heart was seizing erratically and she was certain it was about to fail. Her toes and fingers were starting to turn cold and it felt as if her lungs would collapse.
Just as she thought she would not survive this, another fierce explosion of light burst over her and her eyes fluttered open. There was a woman of pure illumination hovering over her, smiling and reaching to touch her forehead.
The shining woman spoke without moving her lips, “Wake up, my little light. You have more people to save.”
About the Creator
Nicole Deviney
My sister says I'm haunted. Guess that's why they say "Write what you know". If I have to deal with it, dear reader, then so do you. I throw in the occasional sweet story, just for a palette cleanser...enjoy!
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More stories from Nicole Deviney and writers in Fiction and other communities.
Remnants
The bed I woke up in is foreign to me. It is large and quite beautiful, white and clean and I can hear voices in the distance as I attempt to get my bearings. I lift my head off the pillow and I feel groggy, my neck stiff. I push back the light duvet cover and swing my bare feet onto the soft, cream colored carpet and sit up.
By Nicole Devineyabout a year ago in Fiction
The Letter That Was Never Sent
The letter lived in the bottom drawer for eleven years. It was folded carefully, as if someone might open it at any moment, though no one ever did. The paper had softened at the creases. The ink had faded just enough to suggest patience rather than neglect.
By Mehwish Jabeen8 days ago in Fiction
Comments (1)
What a great introduction to Lightening Girl or something like that.