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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/profile/blog/liliapadwes/month/6-1-2015
Rated: E · Book · Entertainment · #1932477
It is a waste to ignore the musings of the mind.
Writing is the communication of the writer's hopes and dreams. To write is to express the laughter, the tears, the joys of the heart. It is the writer's desire to communicate all his feelings and desires in her/her heart to a reader.
June 15, 2015 at 3:21am
June 15, 2015 at 3:21am
#851646
Hiding her fear of a scolding from Jess' Mom, Grace, Ana blurted.

"Jess fell off the tree and is I think half-dead on the ground."

Grace flew out of the house, her feet thudded the ground, her heart thumped against her breast, her breathing was tight against her throat, as she prayed for Jess.

"Come on, Ana," her Mom said, pulling Ana as she, too, hurried out of the house.

As they ran after Grace, they heard shouts from behind. They stopped, looked back and saw a group of four men barrelling down on them. The group hurried past them in a rush of breathing. Ana noticed Jess' Dad was one of the group. She breathed a sigh of relief.

Grace practically stumbled as she reached Jess' motionless body. She knelt and cradled Jess' as she saw the blood oozing out of her mouth. Lita and Jo stepped away as Grace rocked her daughter in her arms.

"Oh, my God, oh, my God," Grace breathed, pressing Jess to her breast.

Within minutes, Martin, Jess' father, came upon his family. He did not hesitate. He bent down, gave Grace a kiss on her cheek, picked up Jess without a fuss, his arms bulged with his daughter's weight. He turned, his feet heavy on the ground, as he rushed off. Half-way to the road, a horse-drawn cart waited. He handed Jess to the driver, jumped into the cart and took Jess off the driver, who roared the cart off to the village hospital.

(to be continued)


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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/profile/blog/liliapadwes/month/6-1-2015