Like in all those good stories her Nan used to tell her, the struggle was real. It was immense, perceivably insurmountable. There would be many obstacles. There would for sure be many tears. There may be death. Hopefully there will be survival on the other side. Nothing is certain. There was her and the road ahead. And that is what makes a story one that is worthy to be told, at least that’s what she used to like about those stories she was told as a kid. She just never thought she would be the star in one of those stories. She laughed because those were usually the best characters in the stories she loved, those that were there unexpectedly.

She drove down the cold, harsh streets of AuCT. They were deceptively quiet. The ominous chill in the air screamed at her as up above the red clouds rolled in. The rains were coming. The residents scuttled for shelter. She herself was heading for cover too. This storm would only be a temporary respite from the one that lay waiting with dawn.

Her mind wondered back to the shady memory of her mother, a woman who had weathered many storms herself. A true Survivor; dead now, but a survivor all the same. She knew that this moment that she was preparing to face, so many had faced before her. Her mother was not a believer in the idea that we are ruled by circumstance; She believed that we controlled our own adversities. She believed that when the struggle loomed ahead, it was each individuals choice as to how they would face it.

You could run, but in AuCT there was only so far you could go forward before you had to turn around and run back in the direction from which you came. Yes there was always the option of going up or down but they too were limited, Hide and Seek was a favourite pass time of the low-life’s who spent their time playing the Finders. You could fight them, which was a terrifying prospect, especially when your opponents outnumbered you, outgunned you, and pretty much just out-fought you. Lastly you could hope that a hero would come along and rescue you, wouldn’t that be nice? But heroes were not really a thriving commodity within the walls of AuCT, too many of them had risen only to be cut down, leaving the remnants of Hope smoking in their wake.

“Fat lotta good that does me,” she said out loud to the ghost whose advice she held true… and who she hated for it!

As she pulled under cover she took a deep breath… The rain would fall. She would pack as it fell. When it stopped falling she would run. While she ran she would prepare for the fight. And while she ran and while she fought, she would prey for a hero. If a hero didn’t come… “

Well, we’ll just have to cross that bridge when we get to it, won’t we…”

A PAINTING2


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