Prayer shook her hair out of her eyes. Everything seemed to be getting into her eyes here. If it wasn’t her hair, it was sweat, or even bugs—nothing, especially the eyes, seemed sacred here, in the jungle. It was such a strange place.

A phrase rippled through the line of people, the whisper coming nearer and nearer to Prayer until she could make out the words. “We can take a rest in five minutes.” She passed the message on to the person behind her and adjusted her hair one last time. It was too bad that pieces were falling out of the tightly wrapped bun—that would get her chastised. Prayer tried not to be vain, she really did, but she needed something to be proud of, and the only thing she had was her hair. She hadn’t looked in a mirror for more than five years—they were not allowed. She’d caught glimpses of her face in cups of water, but she could never see the whole thing at once. And her body wasn’t pretty—it was too muscular and shapeless. She didn’t have gorgeous hips like many girls her age. So she was proud of her knee-length hair.

Another wave of whispers cascaded down the line of people. This one warned of a hill. When they reached the bottom, the whispers said, they would stop and rest. Prayer stumbled over a log, yet did not say anything. If her brother had been here, he would’ve sworn; if Prayer did that, she would be beaten.

Soon the jungle began to thin out. The trees were farther apart, and it began to slope downhill, as promised. When they got to the bottom of the hill, the line turned to the left. Then, child after child began to sit down. Prayer sat down as well.

A woman, clothed completely in a gray robe, walked past Prayer, not looking at any of the children. Her face was covered in a hood, but Prayer knew that the woman was either her old teacher or a stranger. She hoped it was a stranger; she hated her old teacher. Though of course she could not say that to anyone. The teacher was quite high-ranked. Prayer couldn’t trust anyone not to repeat her words.

Several minutes later, everyone got a single roll. On the outside, it was tough, but Prayer found it was quite soft on the inside, and she ate it eagerly. When she finished, most people were still eating, so she sat in silence. Then, the woman in gray passed by again. Prayer wanted to call out, to ask when they would arrive, or to ask if there would be anymore of this horrid jungle—but she did not. She caught the eye of the woman in gray. It wasn’t her teacher. It was a new lady—a younger lady—with huge blue eyes. Prayer smiled; the woman continued on her way, emotionless. They said that if you befriended the gray-robed women, you would perhaps get a larger roll, but that was all rumor. No one knew for certain. If you were a gray-lady, you did not talk. It was perhaps the lowest position there, besides the children’s.

“I think we’re going soon.” That was not a traveling whisper, it was a soft-spoken guess made by the girl sitting next to Prayer. Prayer did not know her name.

“Perhaps.” Prayer didn’t want to get caught talking, so she said nothing more than that. The girl might have just been trying to be friendly, but she could’ve also been a spy.

And then they were up again, walking in single-file once more, their footsteps nearly all in sync to one another. No one was out of line. Taking a rare chance and standing on tiptoe, Prayer could see the hood of the tall gray-lady leading the way. Then they began to go downhill again, and it was lost.

In the next hour, the jungle ended completely. They were now in some sort of prairie. The grass was nearly up to Prayer’s shoulders. There was nothing but gently rolling, yellow hills as far as the eye could see. Prayer sighed softly, and then picked a burr off of her long gray-brown sleeve. It wasn’t just grass, then. There would be burrs. At least there would be no more flies and beetles. Of course, Prayer did not know what to expect in this swiftly changing land. The jungle was already far behind them, though they were not traveling very fast. Perhaps it was running away.

They traveled on like this for five hours. The sun was sinking below the horizon. A ripple ran through the long line of children. “As soon as the sun is completely gone, we will make camp,” it said. “Be prepared.”

Prayer sighed after she heard the message, and then dutifully passed it on. There would be no protection from the elements tonight. If it rained, they would get drenched. But it did not rain. There were no clouds in the indigo sky. The stars were plentiful and bright. Prayer lay on the ground, counting them and failing, making up stories for the unfamiliar constellations. Silently, of course.

The last girl had drifted off to sleep long ago. The lady in gray made one last trip past the line of girls, and Prayer shut her eyes so that the starlight reflecting off of them would not give her sleeplessness away. Insomnia was a sign of rebellion, they had always said, though there was nothing but obedience nursing in Prayer’s heart.

In half an hour, it seemed, even the gray lady was fast asleep. Someone was snoring lightly, and the girl next to Prayer stirred in her sleep. Prayer propped herself onto her elbows, looking around. The line of sleepers stretched as far as the eye could see in both directions, until it ran behind a hill. How many girls were there here? Prayer had heard a whispered number before, but she’d forgotten. It was something like three hundred forty, perhaps more. Maybe it was four hundred thirty. Prayer could never remember.

There was a noise. Prayer held still, not breathing, and listened. There it was again. It was definitely not a sleeping girl. Was it an animal? It sounded like a far-off wail. But it was so faint that she could not tell.

I can’t sleep, thought Prayer, and everyone else can. They’re sound sleepers. If I come back before they wake up, I won’t be caught. I’m sure it will work. If they catch me I’ll just tell them I heard something and I wanted to investigate…

Prayer let her thoughts drift off and listened again. Yes, there was definitely a sound there, far, far away. The direction it was coming from was perpendicular to the row of sleeping people. Prayer pushed herself into a crouching position. They’ll never find out.

Before she really had a chance to think about it, Prayer was up and walking away. Her long grayish robes fluttered in the slight breeze. The sleeves were so tattered. Prayer picked a burr out of her hair. More had fallen loose now. She would be retying it the next morning, so it didn’t really matter. She admired how long the strands were. They blew in the breeze, like her robe. Prayer imagined herself fluttering away, like a butterfly. She felt like she was floating as she walked through the tall grass. This land was actually very pretty at night, she noticed.

There was the noise again, much closer. It seemed to three or so voices, screeching all at once. It didn’t sound very animal any longer, though it could easily be a wolf pack. Prayer shivered. What if there were humans out there, hunting for their group? But Prayer had passed the point of no return. If she went back now, she would stay awake, wondering what had caused the noise, till it drove her mad. She had to know.

Soon she began to feel, rather than hear, a steady rhythm. It was a drum, perhaps? Or was it the footsteps of some giant animal? The beat vibrated her body, all the way down to her bones. Prayer shivered from fear as well as cold.

There was more of that wailing noise again. It was screaming. Prayer could pick out only one word, and that was “revenge”. Maybe that was the only word they were shouting. Prayer stopped walking, hesitating. They sounded angry. What would she find when she climbed this last hill? She dared one glace behind her. There were no imperfections in the line of sleepers. No one knew she was gone. Good.

Prayer took a deep breath, gathered her courage, and stepped to the top of the hill.

I wrote this entirely in one day, so I apologize for the choppy, bad writing; I tend to do that when I’m rushed. This story is a big example of what prompts can do for you. It got started with one of those character generators, and look at it now!

I know that this chapter wasn’t very exciting, but I promise it’ll pick up quickly next chapter. Thanks for reading, and I hope you review (remember, constructive criticism is loved!). Bye!

With love,
Ceci (aka eternalpork)