Prologue- Don't Look back

A little girl trotted along next to her parents down a dim street. She flicked furtive glances at them as they walked, not used to the tense, fearful expressions that they wore. It had started off as a completely normal day; waking up early, her father going out to work, then her mother lovingly making breakfast for her. Because it was Sunday, her father had arrived home for lunch, and they ate their humble meal together at their table. It had been early afternoon when everything went awry. 1

One of her parent’s close friends had burst though their front door, demanding that he speak to them alone, without her within hearing range. The girl had been exiled from he room, sent to play out in the street with the child of her parent’s friend. He was a bright, joyful child, whom the girl held very close to her heart. The two children were halfway through their second snail race when the girl was called inside again, and the boy’s parents hurried out of the hut after embracing both of her parents. They walked off, tugging the boy along behind them as they did so, without looking back. He, however, did look back and the girl’s eyes met his for a mere moment, silently communicating their fear and confusion to each other, before he disappeared around the corner. He didn’t know that it would be the last time he ever saw the friend he knew and loved again.2

Now they were on the move, after throwing a few of their most treasured possessions into bags and locking up their house. It had all been so sudden; the girl was confused, and they had been walking so long that her feet had began to hurt. She was just about to ask for a break from the walking, when her parents came to an abrupt halt. The girl walked straight into the back of her father’s legs and stumbled backwards, holding her throbbing head. As she recovered, she became vaguely aware of a group of men standing in front of them, blocking their way out of the alley. She staggered around her father to ask what was going on, but he glared at her, and pushed her out of the way, behind a stack of rubbish. Shocked, she gazed up at him with a hurt expression on her face, and at her tearful look he smiled briefly to give her some comfort, then focused back on the men blocking their path. Her mother stood just as firm beside him, and they seemed to be pleading desperately with the men. Now becoming pained, the girl tried to listen to what they said, but nothing made sense to her. They spoke of mistakes, forgiveness, and accidents. Then, just as the girl made to get up again, and reached out her hand to tug on her father’s trousers for attention and consolation, a large bang sounded and he fell backwards. She screamed as the blood spurted from his chest and leapt out of the way of his falling body. Her mother too, screamed, but in rage instead of fear, and she started forward, hands outstretched towards the men. But before she got very far, another shot rang out, and she too fell to the ground, body convulsing. The girl just sat, shell-shocked. Then, as she heard the men coming towards her, she pressed herself back against the wall even further, trying not to look at her dead parents. She sighed in relief as two of the men passed her by, but her heart stopped again as the third stopped just by her, sneering down at the girl by his feet. He barked an order at his two goons, and then remarked to them about his satisfaction about seeing ‘scum like her’ on the ground where she belonged. 3

A crackling sound alerted her to the other men’s actions, and she looked to see them setting the nearest houses alight. Gasping, she moved to stop them, but was struck back down with the back of a hand. With a grunt she fell back against the wall, eyes widening at the sight of a hungry fire coming to life around her. As the fire spread and the heat became almost unbearable, she was pinned in place by the fat man’s piercing glare. He was talking to her, telling her horrible, soul-shattering truths about herself that she didn’t want to hear and tried to ignore. But the words burned themselves into the back of her mind, and stayed there, even if she refused to acknowledge them. Tears leaked out of her eyes and down her cheeks, bringing a sadistic smile to the man’s face. He called to his men again, and the girl saw them halt their fire-raising in order to bring a…. burning stick?…over to him. Confused, she began to try and crawl away, so she could mourn the death of her parents in peace, but she was lifted off the ground by the more muscular of the two other men and held in place by an arm around her waist and a hand over her mouth. The fat one walked over to her, waving the burning stick near to her face. As she felt the heat brush her skin, her survival instincts kicked in and she began to struggle against her captor, clawing at his arm and biting into his hand at the same time to get him to release his hold on her. He did indeed drop her, and now feeling very vengeful the girl lunged forward and sank her teeth again into the leg of the hateful fat man who had tormented her so much. With a crude satisfaction she heard him cry out, but before she could savour the taste of his blood she was pulled back and ended up sprawled on her side on the ground before him, vulnerable yet again. She decided she hated that feeling, being so open to harm like she was then. 4

As she turned to face him again and try to regain some hold over the turn of events, he brought the piece of burning wood down onto her skin, catching her on her collarbone, then dragging it down over her chest.  He burnt away a large strip of her shirt and a little of her skirt, as he released the pressure just below her hip, a little way onto her thigh. The girl howled, instinctively curling inwards to relieve some of the pain and ward off any other attacks. Thankfully, the only pain that came to her after that was the force of a harsh kick to her stomach as the men walked away, laughing and saying crude things. The girl lay there for a while, listening for any sounds which may have indicated them remaining with her, but after a while she was sure the only thing she could hear was the cracking of the fire, and soon, the screams of the inhabitants of London. She got up, wincing and holding her injured side, to inspect the scene around her. 5

The fire had spread further than she had imagined, seeping out into the city and clouding their already pathetic horizon. Smoke hung thick in the air and she crawled along the ground to try and breathe in as little of it as possible. Her parents bodies had already been consumed by the flames and her eyes filled with tears again. She wouldn’t even be able to give them a proper funeral, not without their remains… The girl fled the scene, standing up and forcing herself to endure the pain from her side and in her lungs as she ran blindly away from the fire. She had to warn somebody, her friends, anybody…6