Veridee: A Short Story

When Rosie was younger she used to play in puddles. “Jump, Brock!” Now, she sat in a puddle of sand, surrounded by the water that crafted a false ground. “That's dirty water, Rosie.” She was trapped there, on some sort of island, waiting for Union or Veridee to save her. “Oh.” She needed an escape, a way to truly get away, yet none presented themselves. It was just her. Alone and waiting for night to come and show tell her who died so she'd know who was left. I'm left. Me, me...and five others, right? Five, or six? How many cannons went off- Another shattered her world, shouting upwards before gently fading away into the silence that swamped her. Five or four. Numbers meant little, it was the faces Rosie wanted to know. She needed to see them. To know if Union and Veridee were still alive. Or were they taken too? So long had passed since she last
She didn't know why it'd matter, just that it did. Me. My life. I matter. Her words fell from her lips and dripped into the world silently. “I'm still here.” The want to scream, to be loud, to shout and fight for her existence had burnt her up inside but Rosie couldn't bring herself to do it. I want to scream. To breathe. The water was still there, surrounding her, offering her the screams without sound. When she was in it, no one could hear her. But when I'm in there I can't breathe. Rosie stood, shaking. Her feet trembled as she drew closer, looking down into the water, seeing a poor reflection of herself in the clear waters. It's as scared as I am. Look...it's shaking. It's upset. Rosie's mind played against her as she watched the water shift and gurgle upwards. It blabbered like a child, bubbles sprouting up, and her reflection only grew stronger until the water burst from over itself and a woman walked out. Woman? No, she's just a girl. The girl wasn't too pretty, nor someone that Rosie had ever seen before. She didn't look tough or hardened by the