Secrets

A Story by Trikea

All types of criticism allowed. Tell me what you think! Should I continue?

Introduction:

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She stared at it, in shock; in total denial; and in absolute disbelief. She stared at the casket that held the sole woman who had raised her. The sole woman that raised her-who had loved and care for her- even though her very own parents had utterly repulsed her. Her Grandmum. Dead. What am I to do now?

A million thoughts ran through her head at once--grief for the passing of her beloved caretaker, fatigue for living this life of unending sorrow, and, most of all, fright of what's to come next. What will I do? Where will I stay? What am I to do, she thought, What am I to do? Grandmum, why must you leave me all alone in this world?

With no one do protect me, she metally wailed, who will defend me from the harsh, bitter words of the townspeople?

Even though she was looking down into her Grandmother's grave ditch, she knew all their eyes were on her--making fun of and staring at her marred, hideous face.

Knowing that crying at a funeral was improper, she held in her tears, but try as she might, the couldn't be contained any longer. I can't take this anymore! Kara ran from the remainder of the ceremony, not caring if she should be thought of as rude or if all eyes were on her, because she knew, soon, that she would escape this place of misery forever. She ran and ran and ran--harder and faster with every stride. She couldn't accept the fact that her only friend in the world was gone. Almost there, she thought, pushing her legs faster and faster towards the little cabin where she had spent the past 16--almost 17--years of her life. All I have to do is pack up my stuff and leave, she planned; and so, with tears streaming uncontrollably down her cheeks, she packed all her memories into a little suitcase along with necessities.

Wanting to escape from the town--along with her despair--as soon as possible, she packed in a flurry, until her foot bumped a small something under the bed. Wipping the tears away with her sleaves, she realized it was the box that her grandmother had given to her a few nights before--the night she had fallen stiff to the floor. The night Death had taken her only human sanctuary--someone who she had learn to trust and love for the first time in her life. And so, with great misery apon her, she fled into the forest in the mist of night, hoping, no--praying--that no one would see her.....