Hello! Upon request, another Cinderella Story.

darth-vader-was-framed: Here is your request; another Cinderella!

New readers: alright, I admit, the first few chapters are slow. They're short and maybe not quite as good as the more recent, lengthy chapters, and some of the chapters have really short and abrupt sentences. However, it gets better as the story goes on (personal opinion... but I've gotten similar feedback). So if the first few chapters don't appeal to you, try another chapter or two.

Okay, so read on, and enjoy!

The Days to Fly

One

I sat at my window. My eyes were fixed on the horizon. The sky was red, but the sun had been down for a long time. The temperature was mild, even though the season was that of extreme cold.

The wars had been going on forever. Nobody could remember a happy time. The streets were always empty; everybody was afraid to leave their homes. Children were never seen playing loudly in yards and alleyways.

Worst of all, people had forgotten how to laugh. Nobody remembered what laughing was.

Fire ravaged in every part of the country, ruled by a delusional crack pot. He seemed immortal, nobody had ever heard of his death, though most assumed his place was taken over by children and grandchildren, just as delusional as he.

My mother had taught me to hope. Hope was a foreign word to me at the age of thirteen. All I had known was anger, hatred, and despair.

It was on the day of my father's funeral that she sat me down and told me of hope. Her mother had taught her, as generations before had.

"Amethyst, I am about to teach you about something you haven't heard of before. It's called hope," she had said, tears flowing freely.

"Hope?" I had asked, completely confused. It was a new word, it sounded funny saying it.

"It means you look forward to something better, something good."

"But, isn't everything around us good? That's what they tell us."

"Oh, Amethyst, it's not good. It only makes you cry, crying is not good. It's bad. Smiling, now that is something good." With that, she smiled, something rare and precious to see in those horrible times.

I hadn't known it at the time, but it began my rebellious stage. I argued a lot, causing my back to bleed from punishment. I soon understood what right and wrong was, but never remembered to keep my mouth shut.

A loud booming shook my shack. I winced, knowing full well another neighborhood had just been demolished recklessly and with no reason.

The sky flared brighter after the booming ceased, making my heart ache. I shut the curtains and went back to my cot. Instead of trying to sleep, I leaned over a bucket that I kept beside my bed under a leak in my ramshackle roof. I splashed some of the collected water in my face, then relaxed as much as possible on my lumpy cot.

At the foot of my bed sat my satchel. A friend of mine had been informed of a refugee camp in a neighboring country. He got information of a rebel caravan heading out in the dead of night. I had everything packed for my trip. I closed my eyes and tried to conjure up a picture of a sky filled with stars, no red in the sky at all, when a bird call interrupted my thoughts. My eyes flew open, my hands flew to my satchel, and my feet flew out the door.


You all should know the drill. Review!