Five Card Story: Tomorrow

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a Five Card Flickr story by Daisy Wang created Sep 22 2013, 06:22:20 pm. Create a new one!

flickr photo credits: (1) cogdogblog (2) bionicteaching (3) bionicteaching (4) bionicteaching (5) Serenae

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The ground is wounded with scars from the revolution. Dirt is scattered around a colourless battlefield, collecting in ditches and covering the brutal memories of a forgotten war. Through the ashes floating in the air, three silhouettes become clearer as they carefully make their way around the desolate plain. The dying rays of the wavering sun highlight their faces; it’s a murky red glow – the colour of dirty blood. Finally, the silhouettes step out of the ashy haze.

There are two boys and one girl – all with sweat streaked faces and eyes that hold a certain hardness and steely glint. It is a look that shouldn’t have been reflected in their adolescent souls.

Strangled growls of curses disturb the unnatural stillness of the battleground; the girl nearly trips over a mound of dirt in her fatigue and hopelessness. Immediately, the dark-haired boy steadies her. He reassures his companions with words of what they could have after this narrow escape. He reminds them of their colourless world, the controlling voice that twisted their thoughts, the hidden gray sacks brimming with severed body parts, and the drugs that blinded their eyes as well as their mind. The girl lightly touches the wound on her neck and winces. It had been excruciatingly painful to remove the microchip, but the white-haired boy had carved it out. She glances over at him quickly. He is staring blankly at a charred tree, mouth agape. Sensing her stare, he hastily turns around to meet her eyes.

Something almost like panic lights his lifeless orbs then dies out as soon as it comes. It was most emotion she’d seen from him in a long time. Abruptly, the fair-haired boy stops walking, one eye still trained on the tree. The tight hold on the girl’s waist loosens as the dark-haired boy turns to face his comrade. As they start to walk over, the light-haired boy throws his arms out as a barrier and screams for them to get away, to leave him alone. Rigid determination hides beneath the crazed fervour dancing through his eyes. He creates a radius around himself while flicking his gaze back towards the burnt tree. Not looking at them, the boy calmly repeats himself. Get away from here. His voice is now steady, strong. The girl searches his face with her eyes and nods affirmatively. There is nothing but pure determination radiating off his body – nothing that can change his mind. They spare one last regretful glance over their shoulders then together, the girl and the dark-haired boy dart across the ruined plains.

As soon as the retreating figures of the girl and the boy disappear, the fair-haired boy turns back to the tree and scrutinizes the camera. After a few seconds, he snarls at it then sprints the opposite way his allies had gone. The rapid shuttering of the lens tells him that the hounds will be upon him in a matter of minutes. Soon, he will be nothing but a few ripped apart limbs in a gray sack, hidden away from curious eyes.

Strands of red hair whip through the wind, as if the air is on fire. Her bright green eyes meets his ochre ones and they stand on the grassy plains of what used to be a battlefield. Though the land has healed, the scars of that sacrifice still mar their minds. The sounds of the hounds still echo through their heads and their decision to keep running still floods guilt into their hearts. A carefree giggle cuts through the memories they share. A young girl runs through the field, her hands full with colourful wildflowers; her vitality and childhood innocence radiates off of her. She has the man’s dark, russet hair and the woman’s luminous, emerald eyes. Forgetting about the flowers, the young girl wraps her tiny paw around both the man and the woman’s fingers. She tugs – she wants to go back home. Hand in hand, the three silhouettes become hazier as they fade into a beautiful sunset; the myriad of colours ends another day, but holds the promise of their brighter tomorrow.

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flickr photo credits: (1) cogdogblog (2) bionicteaching (3) bionicteaching (4) bionicteaching (5) Serenae

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