Ominya

• Felicity Bradford
• Short Story
• 2014

Her feet echoed on the wet cobblestones beneath her. She was cold, hungry, lonely. Finally she came to a stop at a house with light streaming out of a simple window beside the door.

Ominya knocked loudly and waited patiently. The heavy oak door swung open to admit an old lady, probably in her late 70's.

The woman gestured hastily for Ominya to come in. She was worried about her health. Outside it was cold and wet, with rain pouring down heavily.

Ominya gratefully came inside and accepted the blanket from the old lady.

"What brings you here?" She finally asked, settling down on the small, regal-looking chair across from where Ominya was huddled, trying to regain warmth.

Ominya looked up at her, and seeing her soft eyes, gave in. "The Gem Soliders were chasing me and -" She looked up halfway through to see the lady, eyes widened in fear and horror, an expression she had gotten used to by now.

Ominya stood up and made her way to the door, no one even attempting to stop her. To worry about how its too cold outside or that she was to young to be executed. Nothing.

A tear slid down Ominya's cheek. Her parents were right.

She was useless.