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Mathilda
Mathilda
Author: B. Shenanigan

The Prologue

The lake was still asleep, but its eeriness was abrupted by her waking movement.

     She was laid on it. Half of her body was drowning from the freezing water while the other half was slightly submerged on the shallow rim. It seemed that she had water for a cloth for her night gown was embracing her body tight, and it was failingly hiding the scar from last night.

     There was a scarlet colored stain on her ivory white cloth, it was directly on the flesh of the side of her stomach and it spread faintly downwards to her thigh. She was bleeding for hours, and it seemed that the life within her was fading as her skin completely turned the shade of the lake and her breathing became the opposite of stable. But fortunately, she was still alive.

     The moment the sun casted a summer glow on the area, she became aware of her dying life. She wanted to live, to stand, and to call for help, even though it was apparent that there was none who could hear her, but her body was starting to fade and it was making her movement weaker. She was clawing the wet ground above her, yet in her hands it was stiff.

     She knew it was her end. But no one could really accept dead, especially if it was unjust. I don’t deserve it, she thought to herself.

     All of her glorious life started flashing on her eyes, her sisters, her wins, her love, and it made her smile amidst the pain. Can you hear me? She asked the almightiness, but she received no answer. I am here, your loyal daughter. Listen to me, hear my pleas, she was screaming inside, and it kept stabbing her wound, but it did not matter to her.

     No prayer can save me now. And bit by bit she became an empty shell on the side of the lake. Blank eyes. Unmoving chest. Bloodless flesh. And then her prayer came.

    

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