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Lost In An Island: Prologue

PROLOGUE

Sounds of thunder clashing, lightning sparks everywhere. The sky darkens and with a heavy thunder sound, Arielle jolts up. “Ow!” she uttered painfully as she tried to stand up. Her body was in so much pain when she realized that she was lying on the floor. Another clashing thunder sound made her look up. In disbelief she turned to her side and tried a second time to get up, this time using her palms to support her. Finally she makes it up and staggers a little with dizziness in her eyes. Uncertain thoughts flood her mind. “Wha…” was what she managed to say before taking in a deep breath. She looked at herself, trying to take in how shabby she looked. Her shirt was torn and buttoned up haphazardly, her jeans was shredded around her knees and stained in black, her feet bare. Suddenly she noticed the bruises on her knees and bent a little more to examine them. They didn’t hurt, just cut in deep. As she reached down, trying to cover up the bruise on her left knee, she noticed some cuts on her right hand. “Oh my God! what happened to me?” She looked round at herself and realized she was more grungy than she thought. Another lightning strikes and shakes the windows. She looks up and takes in a full glare of her surroundings. “Strange.” she said. It was an abandoned house with old furnish and the smell of rust iron. There was a staircase on the right side of where she stood, made up of wood. It was covered in dust and had some parts of it caved in. Arielle took a step forward but winced as a stab of pain ran fast through her spine. “Oh no!” She exclaimed and wondered so much on how she got badly hurt. With a muster of prayer, she pulls herself forward towards the area which was perceived to be the living room. The living room was also covered up in dust. The chairs were tattered and the side tables turned over. There was a cabinet that laid open on the far end of her. It was empty, but she walked towards it. As she got closer, she heard a squeal and spun to its direction. Though she didn’t see what made that sound, she could tell it was a cat. Heaving a sigh of relief, she moved closer to the cabinet. On top of it had some old papers that had been drenched in liquid and dried up so that it was difficult to see what was written on them. Infront of where she stood was a window. She tried to look out, but the heavy rain clouded her vision. It was difficult to tell where she was and this worried her all the more. She closed her eyes and tried to think of how she got to this house, that didn’t work as well. “Argh! Now I don’t even know where I am or how I got here. Amazing!” She turned round and surveyed her environment once more. Now she could see the other side of the room from where she stood. There, at the opposite end was a brown baby walker, broken at the left leg. Close to it stood a big flower vase with no flower in it. She giggled at the thought of an empty flower vase and muttered under her breath. “I wonder who would keep this without a flower in it.” A twirl of wind sweeps the curtain that hung carelessly on the window behind her and she smiled. She wondered what actually amused her and strutted her way towards the staircase. She concluded that there was nothing interesting in the living room and so ventured upstairs. As she climbed the first step, a shot of pain hit her at her right knee and she quivelled, but this didn’t inhibit her from moving on. Slowly, she got to the top of the stairs and gasped for breath at what she saw. There lying infront of her was a white garment soaked in blood and droplets of blood made a lead trail towards a door on the left that was left ajar. Arielle was uncertain if she wanted to go into the room, but another thought said otherwise and before she realized herself she was close to the door. She pushed the door a little so she could take a look at what was in the room. To her utmost surprise, she saw a huge portrait of her hanging slanted as if to fall off and scratched with what she was sure was a blade knife that was used. “Oh my! I live here!” She exclaimed. “But what happened? Why don’t I recognize this place?” She stepped into the room more and her mouth grew more agape as she saw the things in d room. On top of the dressing table was a two-sided picture frame. One side had her picture in it. She picked it up and smiled at it. She looked pretty, dressed in a floral vintage gown. Her hair flowed down the right side of her neck and was bunned up with a ribbon that matched the dress. She held a scroll of paper in one hand and put the other on her waist. “Hmmm….I can’t even remember this day.” She sat heavily on the dressing table couch and stared blandly at her reflection. For a split second she couldn’t even recognize who she was. She moved in a bit closer and took in the details of her face. It was a sham. With bags under her eyes, a cut at the middle of her lips and a huge bump on the left side of her face, she was sure she had gotten a beaten. But for what, she didn’t know. She didn’t know or remember anything and burst into tears. She sobbed like a little child whose toy had been taken away from him. In the midst of her tears, she stood up and remembered the blood stained cloth lying at the beginning of the stairway. She picked it up and examined it as though she were looking for a piece of clue to get her to remember something. As she tugged gently at the garment, she felt something frisky and pulled it out. It was a squeezed note. It read, “Welcome Home Arielle!!!” In bewilderment, she stared at it again, wondering who the note was for.

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