All Nonfiction
- Bullying
- Books
- Academic
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Heroes
- Interviews
- Memoir
- Personal Experience
- Sports
- Travel & Culture
All Opinions
- Bullying
- Current Events / Politics
- Discrimination
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Environment
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
All Hot Topics
- Bullying
- Community Service
- Environment
- Health
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
- Back
Summer Guide
- Program Links
- Program Reviews
- Back
College Guide
- College Links
- College Reviews
- College Essays
- College Articles
- Back
Running Away
She ran. She ran as fast as her legs could carry her. She couldn’t even see the forest floor. All she felt was the pain surging through her legs, urging her to stop and rest. She panted, and panted. Annabelle had been running for about 15 minutes now. She had tried to get as deep into the forest as she could.
She woke up to the sound of men talking. She could still hear the hooves of the horses going around. She got up and inched her way to the bushes. Crouching under it, she peered out through the little gap to see the men walking around the area. She looked at her badly damaged knee. It was full of dried up blood with dirt and leaves stuck to it. She had scraped her palms, which were dry and itchy. Her fingers had blister everywhere from trying to escape with the use of metal bars. She could feel every heartbeat as if it were her last. She could hear the sound and the rhythmic beat that it was constantly keeping. She felt as if her heart was beating so loud that even the soldiers could hear it.
One of the men’s voices sounded familiar. “Come on boys, she can’t have gone far. How could a puny little girl outrun a horse? I want you to find her. You cannot come back till you have found her alive and captive.” said the old, grouchy voice. She recognized it now. It was her father’s. Her father had recently put her in the dungeons for not being able to collect taxes from the poor citizens on the street.
From a young age, she was always the one doing all the chores while her step-sister had got all the lavish luxuries of life. Her mother had died of a coma, when Annabelle was very young. A few years later her father, depressed over her mother’s death married another woman known as her stepmother. Her stepmother had come from a very rich family, making her the poorest one. She always was the one left out on many things. She was treated like a servant and never was a part of the family. Every night she would go to her home also known as the barn.
Whenever her father told her to collect taxes from the poor citizens, she would steal the rich’s money and use it for the poor. Her own pocket money was used to buy food for the poor citizen of her father’s kingdom. Her father was a terrible king. After her mother’s death, he went downhill. He would drink many bottles a wine a day. Also he would sit in his room and stare at her picture. He became so depressed that he couldn’t even govern his people properly. Slowly, the rich to become richer, and the poor to become poorer. At the end of it all, the poor were in debt to the rich, and they lived in nothing but small cottages made with straw and mud, built by hand. On the other hand, the rich lived in mansions with with many luxuries. Annabelle was always hidden to the kingdom. Her stepmother thought it would raise suspiciousness and they would be badmouthed. Because of this, her father, and stepmother agreed to throw her out. By thrown out they meant, thrown out. She was to be the cook, the housemaid, and the butler of the house. She worked day and night, with no time to spare.
Similar Articles
JOIN THE DISCUSSION
This article has 0 comments.
What would you finish it with....write your own opinion.