"The Darkest Hour"
Of the busiest day; no one could play, we all had work to do. Tis' the life of the small village that I inhabit. Today was the 15 of October, a frightening day yet on one currently had time to be afraid. Now to any one that was new or in other words a visitor; with that being said they are rare to us. They would think it was a normal day nothing out of the ordinary. The sun was shining and hustle and bustle filled the streets. No one would suspect a terrible crime was about to be committed. I quickly moved out of the way for a cart, cars were not aloud in our village; and I watched it roll on down the lane. Just as I turned to the store on 4 street next to the doctor's office, the bell tolled. No one moved as the bell tolled again, then everyone, with terror plastered on their faces scattered like chickens. It was 12 o'clock, the darkest hour. The clouds gathered as the sound of the bell continued. Rolling black thunderous clouds they were. Lightening struck the square and the trees were lit ablaze. As I ran to my house frightened faces appeared in many windows, yet no one offered to admit me in. Now it was up to the gods to see who would go and stay. As I wrenched open my door a sigh of relief washed over me. A scream ripped though the air like a knife cutting butter. "Thank you" I mentally muttered. It wasn't me; this time. The clouds dispersed and people started out of their homes. Then a young boy glared at me and exclaimed, "The mutes still here!!!" "Why didn't they take the mute!!?" Angry voices piped up and the village elder spoke, calming every one, "maybe next year we will be lucky, alas not this year." With that everyone went back to their normal routine as if nothing ever happened.
THE END
