Vengeance

• Catherine O'brien, Grade 9
• Short Story
• 2019

The girl stared out across the ocean, her emerald green eyes following two seagulls as they chased each other across the waves. The wind toyed with her long blonde hair, blowing it this way and that.
Her eyes narrowed at the landmass on the horizon—Wexda. For years, there had been on-and-off fighting between the two countries. The most recent lull of peace had lasted for almost two years.
It was foolish of me to hope it was going to last longer this time, the girl thought bitterly. For last week, her father had been assassinated, leaving her to take over his kingdom.
Her mind recalled the assassin—a girl roughly twenty years old—throwing the knife that had ended her father’s life. Sprinting to his side as his blood leaked out and stained the stone floor of her sister’s room.
Her desperate attempts to stop the blood had failed and the person she loved most died in her arms.
Everytime he had ridden into battle, she had hardly worried because she was right beside him every time to help. This time, she had been useless. Her father had died because of her.
If she had only made sure that the assassin was actually dead before going to help her sister, he would be alive and she wouldn’t be standing on a beach glaring at Wexda. She wouldn’t have to be made queen in his place and run the country.
They had had the funeral three days after. Thousands had come to mourn the death of their king, nobles and peasants alike. The grief she had felt was so intense that for the first time in eight years, tears broke through her emotional barriers.
The grief was gone now, her tears dried up. She turned away from the ocean and mounted her black stallion smoothly.
Only one emotion remained—a terrible anger. Taking one last look in the direction of the assassin’s country, the girl silently swore to have her vengeance. Wexda would regret the day they had crossed her.