I looked at my reflection on the glass; my light hazelnut hair that was normally so lush and beautiful, was stringy and wet, clinging to my forehead as the cold rain stung my face and arms. I looked mainly at my grey-green eyes, which were full of sorrow and regret, yet sparkled with a strange satisfaction that was unknown to me until then. My lovely blue and white dress, the one I wore on my wedding day, which was now stained brown and red from blood, clung to my pale alabaster skin, which seemed shone from the moonlight pouring out from its place in the sky. I smeared the blood from my left hand onto the window, and watched as the rain steadily washed it off the window, allowing me to once again see the mess I had made. I started chuckling, and my chuckles slowly grew into a high-pitched maniacal laughing, which caused nearby crows to fly away, into the dark and storming skies of black and grey. Lightning crashed, and thunder roared as my laughter ceased. I turned around, picking up the umbrella that I had let fall to the ground, and started walking.
“I hope he rots,” I sneered, talking to myself and any of the birds and fauna near enough to hear. “Let the damned go to the Hell…”
Running through the woods, I looked behind me every few seconds. Every man in the town was searching for me, and many were hot on my tail. I could barely see lights in the distance behind me, and hear dogs barking. I couldn’t go on much longer, my head was throbbing, and my stomach growled. I hadn’t eaten since before it happened, and I was dizzy with hunger. Not only that, but the fatigue has caught up with me, my eyesight was becoming blurry, and everything was turning into a mesh of colors. I continued running until a log hidden by leaves and grass tripped me, sending me to the ground, hands first with a crunch. A searing pain went up my right arm as one of the bones in my wrist was, what felt like, sprained, or possibly even broken. Hot tears ran down my face as I slowly got up, and started running again. I had gotten a bruise on my leg when I fell, and every time I put weight on my leg it hurt enough to cause me to limp. With each limp, my head rattled, and my arm ached. I finally fell to the ground in front of a large, dead tree, wincing as I accidentally put extra weight on my bruised leg. Breathing heavily, I moved to a comfortable position with my back against the tree, cradling my wrist. Once I had caught my breath, I brushed a strand of hair from my face, and looked to the distance. There were no lights, and I could hear no dogs.
“Have they given up?” I asked myself aloud, between each I word I took a breath, even though I knew the answer. They wouldn’t give up. The men of my town were as stubborn as mules, and would stop at nothing to catch me.
I gasped as a loud crunch of leaves, and the c**k of a gun assaulted my ears from nearby. Before I could get up and run the cantankerous bang of a rifle caused the birds in the tree to fly away, but I didn’t hear the rifle. I couldn’t hear anything. I felt as though somebody had kicked me in the stomach. The already blurred colors of the forest were fading into black and white, and a dark stain that was growing larger by the minute appeared in the corset of my dress. I turned my head slowly towards the direction of where the shot was fired, my mouth slightly ajar, and saw the silhouetted figure of a man, simply standing there. I opened my mouth wider to say something but I all I could force out was a choking sound, and fall to the ground.
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