Prisoner

• Gabby Thatcher, Grade 6, Bayswater North Primary School
• Short Story
• 2015

Excellence Award in the 'Read Write Repeat 2015' competition

Atop a tower she lay, shackles upon her grimy hands and feet. Matted hair, dull, sunken eyes and a blank expression laid itself upon a face that used to be desired by many. This place had ruined her, torn her, destroyed her. Her life merely minutes more, the once beautiful young woman looked back on her past.
They say just before you die, your life flashes before your eyes. She wondered if it was true, as her gaze filled with sorrow and regret as she reflected upon her younger, carefree self experimenting with the thing that brought her perfect life crumbling to the ground.
Ah, sorcery. How she wished it did not exist! Tear after tear splashed down her previously rosy cheeks, now covered by a thick layer of earth. She recalled how joyful and ecstatic she felt when she had first mastered it. She hungered for the flipping sensation in her stomach, longed for the addictive light headed feeling that spread into every ounce of her mind- but most of all, how alive, how invincible she felt. Her eyelids drooped to a long awaited close and her muscles worked furiously to form her pale lips into a smile.
The loud clanking of the finest armour the kingdom supplied, reached and tugged her unwillingly and roughly out of her daydream. A heavily armoured guard came atop the roof and grunted that it was time. The great sorceress Esmerelda wobbled to her feet as the stout guard hastily unlocked her chains and hurried her down the stairs. She staggered, her weak frame not used to such movement.
The two silhouettes emerged out from the shadows into the crowded but deathly silent courtyard.
People from all over had gathered, craning their necks to catch a glimpse of the so called witch. As Esmerelda stumbled forward, people hissed unkind and cruel things directed her way. Deafening loud bells clanged signalling that the time was nigh. The guard gave Esmerelda a little shove toward the centre of the courtyard where a grave fate awaited her. Everything was a terrifying blur; she remembered a priest giving a speech in monotone about all her wrong doings and crimes she had committed, the crowd jeering and spitting at her and screaming for the end. She recalled a gruff and burly man pulling a lever and then... floating.