llaurellleaf

Henry leaned over his sister who was bound on the floor. He gripped the sharp bladed dagger tightly, until his knuckles turned a bloodless shade of white. He raised the object well over his head, ready to plunge it down into his sister's chest at a single letting go of a muscle. "Please, Henry!" the child pleaded, "You don't have to do this!" The barely ten-year-old squirmed under the cord that bound her hands and feet. Tears streaked the girls face and there was a quiver in her voice. "Please!" she screamed again as Henry's face turned to one of anger and anguish, "Please, Henry, I'm your sister! Please don't do this!" Henry gripped the dagg

 Prologue Bryony Those first months were the hardest. They were dark and cold, unknowns that buried everyone in fear. We only had survival on our minds; we turned savage and basic. It's hard now to remember all that happened before the bomb. But that's just it. Time is now separated into two pieces; before the bomb and after. Desmond was young in those days. I can remember him being wild. He was a young man driven by passion, he knew how to follow his heart. Even before, he was passionate, even comedic at times! Through the time, after enduring for so long, however, he lost that passion. As he had to place everything on his own shoulders