This was made by my friend. Initials LY. She asked me to help her post on Fictionpress, so… *shrug* Hope you'll like it. More might be coming if good reviews come in ^^

I think that 'There is no turning back' doesn't actually fit the whole story, but.. ah wells. I edited some parts, tiny editing…

I open my eyes. What am I doing in a graveyard? Why am I lying here, with nothing at all? I search my memory, but there is a hole, a huge gaping gap in my memory. Somehow it seems to fit the hole in my heart. A sense of sorrow, of heartache, of terror, lingers inside me. I do not know where I came from, what my name is. I do not know anything, except for the basics like ABC, which does not help me find out who I am. I am wearing dirty, soot-smudged clothes, with extreme hunger wearing me out. What am I doing in such a bad state?

I try to stand.

Everything sways around me, and I grab a tombstone to steady myself. It is old, cracked, and I can't make out the words on it. Some day we will end up like that, a bunch of bones underground, with no one to mourn us, to care for us. I shake my head, to get rid of that thought. Where had it come from? But somehow… it fits how I feel.

There is no turning back…

I wander around, tired, bedraggled, undernourished. I walk, then crawl around on the streets, sharp stones cutting into my bare feet and skinned knees. The sharp pain is welcome; it clears my head from my constant misery. Although there is no sense in being sad for no reason, I just am. I become a walking ghost, all skin and bones, with the rags I am wearing drifting around me. Somehow, I survive for days, weeks, until I lose track of the days, my memory as ragged as the rest of me.

There is no turning back…

I miss something, somebody, someplace. There is nothing to glue up the cracks in my heart, to fill in the holes in my life, to pull back the threads of my future. High, clear laughter echoes in the air, drawing me like strings draws a puppet to the present. Children are the only innocent, the only pure things in this horrible world. Once they get older and corrupted, there is no turning back. There is no turning back…

I try to open the door in my memory, to get at my real thoughts. But it is tightly closed, except for an occasional stray thought drifting out. Where is my family? Dead. There, another stray thought. It must be false. But no… it has an unmistakable ring of truth to it. Angry, I smash that door open. I do not stop, no matter how tired my mind gets. Finally, the dark door shatters. The shield against so much misery falls into pieces.

There is no turning back…

Tears fill my eyes as my life story rushes into my head in a matter of seconds

Working on a farm, taking care of livestock, milking cows. It was calm, peaceful. I had a good life, although not well-off. Kind, caring parents were there to help me, teach me, guide me. Songs and laughter filling the air. The crimson sunset, lighting the sky up in so many different shades. When the world was beautiful, when my little sister came into this world.

A frail little infant, with sweet blue eyes and wisps of golden hair. Always cheerful, gurgling with laughter.

Then, that day came.

That day, when the raiders visited us.

Harsh voices yelling at each other, fierce men waving weapons in the air. Fire filling the air, hot and crackling. Mother's voice, yelling desperately for me to save myself.

Father's mutilated body, head resting a few paces away, terror stark on his features.

My little sister, scorched golden hair. Peaceful look, as if sleeping, eyes closed. A smile on her tiny face as usual.

Anger, misery, grief, anguish. Unbearable agony.

Running, walking, crawling. Feverish, hungry, thirsty. I'm unable to move, and I collapsed…

Shuddering with the knowledge of the truth, I sink back down on the ground, like I did before. I am alone in this world. Alone and sick. Death awaits me… I no longer care what will happen to me. I can only hope… If only I could be reunited with my family again…

There is no turning back…