I do not own Fairy Tail or its characters. First FanFiction after reading others stories for a decade now. Don't go easy on me, if you hate it, or are indifferent to the start of this story. I'd love to hear any criticism given.
Everything is going to be okay.
Her feet swelled from standing.
Everything is going to be okay.
Her left foot popped audibly in the dead silence. A scarlet river flowing now.
Everything is going to be okay.
Her left foot raised then, the scarlet river not stopping, knee bending, foot back down.
Everything is going to be okay.
Her dress screamed the memories of happiness, from the smell of rotten leaves and sunshine. The wind picked her dress up around her, scattering the memories.. the remnants of happiness.
Everything is going to be okay.
Her right leg followed, foot raised, knee bent, stepping into the scarlet pool her left foot had now left.
Everything is going to be okay.
Her heart jumped erratically. Not from what had happened, but what was to come. She wheezed in the hot air that gave her no relief. The sand stuck now in her mouth, her lungs, her lips cracked and coated. It seeped into every crevasse it could find. The cut on her foot now clotting from the sand.
Everything is going to be okay.
Her walk was not a comfort. Her shoulders were heavy from hunger and defeat, from a decision. The decision was not easy and the relief she had imagined was not there. The grip from Death desperately clawed with every step she took. Squezzing harder every step. Slither from her foot to her chest. Clawing anything it could catch on to.
Everything is going to be okay.
She was now running. Her conscious had not ever had to comprehend her actions. Left foot raise, knee bent, leg crashing into the sand, spitting the sand behind her. The paper in her hand was already wet from sweat. Soft and warm. Like it was her own skin. She hold onto it tightly like it was her soul she was holding onto.
Everything is going to be okay.
She didn't stop her sprint when she made it to her destination. The Box. It looked out of place. Sliver. Not caked in sand. Not brown. Not weathered. The box shone like a beacon of life in the desert. Like a star, Like heaven.
Everything is going to be okay.
She didn't stop to look as the note in her hand slowly and lazily floated into the box.
Everything is going to be okay.
Only two words, written in mud, stood up form the note. Her name.
Six scrapes sat in the box.
Everything is going to be okay.
One week later, all six would be called at the ceremony and not everything was going to be okay.