literature

Promise

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Literature Text

She was beautiful. She looked up at him with those wild, dark brown eyes that highlighted her expression. Waves of black hair framed her ageless face. She was smiling her calm, composed smile, so full of love. Her body fit perfectly in his arms as he held her.
They were lying down on the grass, enjoying the evening sun. His heart felt light as he gazed back at her. Slowly, she raised her elegant fingers and outlined the features of his face. Closing his eyes at her touch, he felt an inexplicable kind of divine happiness wash over him. For over two years, he had the opportunity to belong to a wonderful woman, whom he loved more than life itself.

She placed her head between his neck and shoulder, sniffing in what she called his "honey-like scent".
He smiled warmly, and plucked a red rose from the bushes nearby.
"Anastasia?" he whispered, pulling her closer still.
"Yes?" she asked softly.
He made the flower tickle her nose. She laughed, like the sweet laugh of a child. While accepting the rose, she interlocked her fingers with his.
Letting the silence set in, he leaned forward. His lips soon met hers in a long kiss.

Breaking away, Anastasia placed her hand over his chest, where his heart was. She let another split second pass by. When suddenly, clutching the rose, she got to her feet. Holding the frills of her dress playfully, she broke into a sprint.
"Catch me, Richard!" she laughed.
Richard grinned, preparing to catch his lady.

That was when the shout rang out.
"That's her! She's the witch!"
Richard didn't have time to react. Anastasia was a few yards in front of him. She'd turned at the shout, surprised. Her eyes widened in shock when a group of fifteen people or so advanced towards her.
Richard recognized most of his townspeople. Many were elders who were his neighbours, a few he worked for. His feet, at first, felt rooted to the ground, not registering the situation in front of him.
"She's sent down by Satan himself," cursed someone else in a shout. The man caught hold of her.
That was when Richard saw the glint of the ruby blade of the knife the man was holding.

His senses seem to strike him again, and he ran forward. "No!"
The blade struck out, obliquely making an incision across Anastasia's chest, cutting through her dress. The cut wasn't fatal, but Anastasia, under the influence of the ruby, fell as a senseless heap on the grass. The man, aided by someone else, began tying a cloth around her mouth.
"Leave her alone!"
But someone was preventing him from going forward. Richard kept struggling and yelling, when he recognized his brother's voice.
"Stop it. There are too many of them."
Richard watched helplessly as the men bound Anastasia's hands and legs with ropes.
"They're going to kill her!"
Matthew held his brother in place. "She's a witch."

Richard felt nauseated, as sickening pangs of shock overtook him. He felt mentally traumatized, not wanting to believe what he was witnessing. "I don't care! They don't understand! Matthew, do something…they're taking her away…"
His voice cracked at his final words. His brother's eyes softened.
"I'm sorry," he said.

"I'm a witch, Richard. I can do things."
"That's wonderful."
"You're not afraid of me?" she asked him, mild surprise setting in her wild eyes.
"It doesn't make a difference to me, Anastasia."
She was looking away from him, as if in shame. "Your people…misinterpret us. We've lived among you in complete harmony, disguised as humans. We mean no harm –"
"And I do not need any justification," he took her face in his hands, forcing her to gaze up at him, "I know you wouldn't hurt anybody."
"But if anyone finds out…" her expression turned sorrowful, almost afraid.
His voice came out in complete determination, with the usual hint of bold passion. "I won't let it. It's a promise. Nothing will take you away from me."


How everyone found out, was beyond him.
Richard opened his eyes. His limbs were bound with chains, and a fading pain hummed at the side of his head. He wondered how long he'd been knocked out.
In front of him, another man sat. He was busy cleaning the ruby blade of his knife, his lips pressed together in concentration.
"Where is she?" Richard asked through his teeth.
"You were under her spell, my son," the man put forth his assumption calmly.
Anger flooded through the prisoner. "I was under no such thing. She's like any of you! Let her go now!"
"She's a god-forsaken demon, who can ruin our town!" the man shot out, with equal anger.
A painful, muffled scream rang out from another room.

Richard's eyes widened in horror. "No! Don't hurt her!" He lashed forward, only to be pulled back by his chains. His nerves seemed to scream at him. It all felt wrong, so unreal to him.
The screams continued, each one weaker than the one before. Richard chocked on his words. He couldn't imagine this happening to her. "Please let her go," he said in a final note of plea.
The door opened, and Matthew walked him. His expression was concerned, as he sat down to removed the chains that bounded his brother.
"You can go see her now. She is not in any pain."

The words seemed to linger in the air painfully. Richard felt numb, worn out, full of ache, as he got up. His mind couldn't work, but his feet involuntarily took him forward to the other room.
Anastasia's dress was torn, revealing the cuts on her skin. The blades had gone all the way through her flesh, even her face. She lay motionless, on the marble floor, in the pool of her own blood.

And, she was still clutching the rose in her hand.

The rose had lost most of its petals, and had withered and shriveled. Richard allowed himself to drop down next to her. He pulled her limp, broken body towards him, and took in tightly into his arms. A single sob escaped from him.
"I'm s-sorry," he whispered, "I'm sorry I couldn't keep my promise…"
He didn't know how long he stayed there, in the same position, still holding her.
Firstly, this is for the :iconteenage-writers: 's Contest: [link]

Secondly, I know this isn't one of my best works, but it was all I could think of with the theme - a little weak, I know. It was also a little hard to write in the man's point of view, but I think it was needed in this case. However, the contest specified the dead rose and a solid plot, so I thought of this. :D

The minute I read dead rose, I thought of going back to the Renaissance period or something - and this is my first shot at that. Well, those days, they did believe that witches were cursed and what not. How much of that is true, I don't know. But Anastasia is good, and no, Richard was not under any spell.

Anyway, the story is self-explanatory. It's just the fact that you can fall in love with anyone - no matter what they are. Hope it's enough for the "Love Gone Wrong" contest. I tried my best to not keep it too long. :heart:

EDIT: Thanks to :icontreo-legigeo: 's wonderful suggestions, the prose is very slightly edited. I will work on shorter sentences, though!
© 2011 - 2024 annatubby
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Flykick-Chick's avatar
This is beautiful :)