A Novel: Ostatini Las Part 3
They were losing; she knew that now. Yet, they fought, and they continued. What more could be done? What else could be preserved? Clenching her eyes shut, the girl effectively trapped any tears longing to leak out. There was no reason for that. It helped nothing and only asked to be pitied. Pity was worthless; pity was nothing. She was fifteen; there was no reason for pity. None. None at all. It mattered naught that she had lost one she loved. So many of them had… More would follow, everyone knew it, but it was not spoken of, like a forbidden topic. It was the Forbidden Fruit of Ostatini Las. The girl knelt down by the summer flowers. They were beautiful, so beautiful… Blues and pinks and yellows… Were the camp overrun, they would be trampled, turned to ash. In the real world, they meant nothing, and yet, they were captivating.
The girl glanced up, observing the heavy, grey clouds. Wind whipped her blonde hair around her face, fast enough to make it sting. Kneeling still, she longed to cry out, to call to those lost. She knew they would not answer, but still she longed to call. It was pointless, she realized that, but still the words welled in her throat, melting into wordless sobs as they were trapping within. Shaking with silent sobs while desperately trying to subdue them, it was some time before the girl noticed that the clouds had opened up. The rain began to fall, and soon, liquid coated her cheeks. More came, but still, she did not notice. Finally looking up, she noticed the rain as it fell, caressing her body but not her soul, nor her mind. Still, upon seeing it, she began to listen, longing to hear a voice that, in her heart, she knew she would never hear.