[ OT ] Sunday Free Write : Leave A Story , Leave A Comment - End of Camelot Edition

**Blood Shed** 
 
 It was autumn. The wind was crisp, the sky was gray, and the trees were the color of blood. 
 
 Emily walked down a road that stretched to the horizon, watching it slip towards her as she moved. Soon, she arrived at a secluded plot of land, infested with overgrown grass and weeds. From there, she followed a small hidden trail that led her to an abandoned barn, made of nothing but rust and rotted wood. The entrances were barred and locked. Emily cautiously walked behind it, then scanned across the bottom edge of the wall until stopping at a rut. Originally dug by a groundhog, it was fairly deep. She then carefully kneeled down and began crawling through, head-first. Her small frame was just enough to hardly fit, and her back grinded along the ground. She emptied her lungs and pushed off her legs to slide her torso through. 
 
 The sound of crickets muffled to silence. The crisp air became musty and thick. The fresh smell of leaves was clouded by a strong, hazy scent of cigarette smoke. Emily coughed the stinging air from her lungs and cleared her throat. She slowly walked towards the room on the far end, brushing her way through layers of cobwebs. The vertical gaps in the walls allowed a small amount of light to form stripes through the smoky air and onto the ground. They shifted with every detail; old piles of hay, rusty tools, and cans of kerosene. Emily approached a storage room at the end of the barn. She gripped the iron handle of the heavy wooden door and slowly swung it open. 
 
 The warm light of a lantern rushed out, along with a cloud of heavy smoke that immediately forced the air out of her lungs in a series of harsh coughs. She looked down and saw the boy, Allen. He was laying on his back with tears streaming down from the sides of his face. He looked up at her with swollen, bloodshot eyes that revealed his left temple, so dark and puffed that his eye could hardly open. His nose was crooked and blood collected on his upper lip where it had dried. More blood streaked across his cheek where it remained saturated with tears. 
 
 There ’ s more blood than last time. There ’ s always more blood. The way he glared so hopelessly made Emily feel overwhelming. She laid down next to him. There they were, laying silently together in the place they used to explore as kids. They waited for a sign; a sign to inspire them to do something they should have done long ago. 
 
 Filled with the excitement of exploration, two kids claimed this territory as their own long ago. The rust seemed to trickle down the roof like blood. For this reason, though it had yet to live out its name, they established it: the Blood Shed. In it, they found three valuable things: A kerosene lamp, a hatchet, and an escape from the world. 
 
 Blood can represent life, but also death; the only difference is whether it ’ s kept inside or let out. The Blood Shed was not this way; the more blood it held, the more death there was. 
 
 Ever since the first hit, this is where the two went. Allen was raised by his raged-alcoholic father, who would beat his older brother until he ran away at age 16. That ’ s when the abuse was directed at Allen. For the next three years, Emily would hear about it, and be told to keep it a secret. The suffering had reached a peak. Allen was hopeless and the poisonous secret was killing Emily. She lived her life in painful silence, fearing for the life of her best friend. Those years of abuse were locked inside the decrepit barn with only a boy to endure it and a girl to repress it. They felt that the world was their attacker. They thought they could hide. 
 Some words were exchanged between the two victims. They were carefully passed back and forth. Words of healing, words of hope, and words of desperation. They had never said it, but they both loved each other deeply. It was a love more true than anything they could verbally express, driven by immense care and appreciation. 
 
 The words became louder. Before, the words were wet with pain, but now they were soaked and dripping. The abuse was not a direct cause of Allen ’ s suffering, but more of a seed that rooted his entire mindset. The weeds that grew in his mind told him that he was a failure. He considered himself weak-minded and lacking self-discipline. Past experiences flashed through his mind, such as the time he promised he would stop smoking or the time he got fired. The heaviest memory was the last time he saw his brother and told him he was a coward for deciding to run away. Now, he hated himself. 
 
 Beads of sweat rested on Allen ’ s forehead. He opened his eyes and noticed an increase in light. Emily looked and swore in response to the growing fire that had quietly intruded their privacy. Allen pushed and helped Emily to the tunnel and insisted her to go first. With plenty of struggle, she did. 
 
 Hay and kerosene provoked the fire recklessly. The agitated flames rose along the walls and spilled across the floor. On the outside, Emily anxiously awaited the assurance of his safety. The haste of the destruction stimulated her impatience. 
 
 “ Allen, ” she asked, “ Are you okay? ” 
 
 Silence. 
 
 Burning wood crackled with the crickets. By now, the sun had set, the air had cooled, and darkness was closing in. 
 Just before shouting, Emily heard a hesitant response emerge from the other side. 
 
 “ I ’ m okay. ” 
 
 Emily nervously shifted her weight back and forth in anticipation. She felt the heat increasing and wondered why he was taking so long. 
 
 She yelled, “ Come on! ” 
 
 He cleared his throat and replied, “ Emily, you have to know… ” 
 
 “ What? ” 
 
 “ I ’ m not coming out of this shed. ” 
 
 Emily processed the statement carefully. “ What do you mean? ” She asked desperately, banging her fists against the wall. “ Allen! Tell me why you ’ re doing this! ” 
 
 The fire peeked through the gaps in the planks. 
 
 “ Emily, I don ’ t have reasons you ’ ll understand. I ’ ve felt convinced to go through with this and so I have to. It ’ s my final test, that I can go through with something. ” 
 
 She was crying now. “ Don ’ t you understand? ” She screamed, “ Remember when your brother ran away- what you said? That ’ s you! You ’ re the coward! Your brother made his circumstances better by changing them, not escaping them. ” 
 
 “ And where is he now? ” Allen growled. 
 
 “ I don ’ t know! But I do know that wherever he is, he at least has a chance! ” She responded, “ You said you have to go through with this, but that ’ s quitting, like a coward. If you want to go through with something, how about you just live your life. ” 
 
 The snapping fire replaced the crickets and overwhelmed the light of the set sun and peeking stars. The heat grew so immense that Emily had to step back. She could only imagine how it felt to be on the inside. 
 
 There was a long and deafening silence. Out of despair, she fell to her knees and assumed her friend was unconscious. 
 
 A hand grabbed the bottom of the wall. Allen ’ s head soon peeked out, hesitantly. The heat wobbled Emily ’ s perspective of his face. He was bigger than her and therefore required more effort to fit through the gap. 
 
 Suddenly, they heard an intense cracking sound. Part of the barn collapsed in on itself. They froze in their places as embers exploded into the sky. The fire was let off its leash; it whipped violently and reached higher than the nearby trees. When the reaction was over, Allen continued his painful effort and Emily resumed screaming to try and motivate him to somehow move faster. He breathed out to squeeze through. His torso became free. When he inhaled, so much smoke was billowing through that he could not stop coughing, exhausting him immensely. He gasped and yelled in pain. The heat was scorching his legs. In a last effort, he pushed himself out as hard as he could. He was free. His legs, however, were covered in melted fabric and deep burns. He could hardly move. Emily instantly rushed forward despite the scalding heat and grabbed his hardly-conscious body by the arms and dragged him back into the tall grass. His chest convulsed and his eyes rolled back as his mind attempted to cope with the pain. She called 911. After a few minutes, Allen was calm enough to speak. 
 
 “ It ’ s time, ” he declared. 
 
 There they were, laying silently in the same place they used to roam as kids. They were no longer waiting; their long-awaited sign was right before them. A blood shed whose secrets had been locked for years transformed into a blazing fire, signified that there would be no more shed blood. 
 
 Allen thought about what had just happened. He thought about the cigarette that was in his hand earlier, how exhausted he was, that he let it drop to the barn floor. If Emily hadn ’ t showed up, he would still be inside. 
 
 Sirens came into earshot. Emily looked at Allen with swollen eyes. The fire still blazed wildly. Emily knew that time was running out. She looked at Allen. Tears streamed down both of their faces. She brought herself closer to him. 
 
 “ Things will get better, ” she held onto his hand, “ I promise. ” 
 
 He looked back at her and gently squeezed her hand and whispered faintly, “ I love you. ” 
 
 She leaned in and delicately planted a kiss on his forehead. With her lips near his ear, she whispered in response, “ I love you too, ” then disappeared quietly into the tall grass waving gently under the night sky. 
 
 The emergency vehicles arrived soon after and found Allen. When the paramedics took him into the ambulance, he revealed his venomous secret. 
 
 Things would get better. 

