L
Lewi
Guest
Original poster
Kieara wandered through the streets. Could it be considered her home now? It seemed all she ever did now was wander one place to the next. If it was her home she wouldn't be wandering the streets. If it was her home, someone might actually try to show her some kindness. Why was she even here? A tool for them to amuse their selves with?
Well if there was one good thing to being on the streets, it was that she got to see the flowers outside. They were beautiful. She loved flowers. The time she'd been away had been more than enough time for her to think. For everything to sit on her mind. Sometimes it was nearly too much for her to bear. She couldn't count the nights she'd sat and cried because she was at a loss and didn't know what to do.
Kieara had been on her own some weeks ago. She'd been early in her pregnancy then. Had only just begun to show really. And those people....Those people treated her like a dog. She couldn't just get rid of an innocent child. After all, it was a part of her as well. Not just the man who took what he wanted from her. Not just him. It was a beautiful baby within her, but they didn't see it like that. They saw a whore. A harlot. A complete breech of any moral standing. Even when she'd tried to explain the truth to them.
And that man?...That man who took what he wanted from her in every possible way. Violated her beyond repair and took something from her she'd never be able to get back. Her purity. He'd pretty much ruined any hope of her getting a husband. Not now, not with a baby on the way and her purity being taken. They wouldn't give her a second glance. However, she couldn't help but thank him in a twisted way. For if he hadn't, she wouldn't be expecting right now, nor would she feel this sense of love for the small being growing inside of her.
She felt isolated, alone, and helpless. She needed a hero, needed someone to save her. Save her from their stares, their words, their refusal to help her. They wouldn't even do her business to give her food to eat. No one would let her buy cloth to make clothes for the infant. They wouldn't let her do anything. They tortured her. She would starve to death soon. That much is certain. With no help and no one to turn to or nowhere to go? She was a goner. Even with the bulge on her stomach of a woman about 4 or 5 months pregnant, one could see her face was thin and so was her arms and legs showing her malnourishment.
She was in the streets begging for food. She recalled, the last thing she'd eaten had been some bread. Where she'd gotten it she couldn't remember. That was too long ago. When had she eaten last? She could remember what it was but not when? It must have been quite awhile ago.
Her hair was like fire. An auburn mess of ringlets that dropped down her back to just above her derriere. Though at the current time it was rather tangled and dirty from being on the streets. She was petite, even while she was pregnant. One could easily see she was all baby weight. She only stood at a height of 5'1. Not exceptionally short, but height deprived enough to be considered so. The pregnancy had brought out the woman's natural curves, her breasts had grown, but so had her stomach evening the balance. Her eyes were a bright aquamarine blue. She bore a line of freckles across her cheeks and nose that would crinkle when she laughed. Her skin was a pale as porcelain but smudged with dirt, bruises, bloodied cuts, scars from old ones. Reminders of the many beatings she'd already received and stonings out of towns. She wore her hair in a ponytail that draped over her back. It at least got the hair out of her face. There were scars and bruises on her arms and legs to accompany the rest of her broken body that had yet to heal from them stoning her out of multiple towns over her condition. She wore an emerald dress with golden embroidery on the sleeves of it. It was torn and tattered and also dirty. It appeared even to be too small for her large belly now.
The woman was weary from so much travel. She was tired and wanted to rest, but she couldn't afford to. She was eating for two, and she needed food desperately. She wobbled to a bakers door. She was stopped at the front by an angry man. "Shoo! Shoo! Get out of here whore!" Kieara frowned tears streaking her dirt stained cheeks. "Please sir....I am begging, may I just have a bit of bread?...."
He glared. The larger man boomed in an angry voice. "No! Now get!" He shouted giving the woman a shove. She stumbled backwards a bit finally falling onto her behind in the cobblestone street. She pushed herself up weakly to go in search of food elsewhere.
Well if there was one good thing to being on the streets, it was that she got to see the flowers outside. They were beautiful. She loved flowers. The time she'd been away had been more than enough time for her to think. For everything to sit on her mind. Sometimes it was nearly too much for her to bear. She couldn't count the nights she'd sat and cried because she was at a loss and didn't know what to do.
Kieara had been on her own some weeks ago. She'd been early in her pregnancy then. Had only just begun to show really. And those people....Those people treated her like a dog. She couldn't just get rid of an innocent child. After all, it was a part of her as well. Not just the man who took what he wanted from her. Not just him. It was a beautiful baby within her, but they didn't see it like that. They saw a whore. A harlot. A complete breech of any moral standing. Even when she'd tried to explain the truth to them.
And that man?...That man who took what he wanted from her in every possible way. Violated her beyond repair and took something from her she'd never be able to get back. Her purity. He'd pretty much ruined any hope of her getting a husband. Not now, not with a baby on the way and her purity being taken. They wouldn't give her a second glance. However, she couldn't help but thank him in a twisted way. For if he hadn't, she wouldn't be expecting right now, nor would she feel this sense of love for the small being growing inside of her.
She felt isolated, alone, and helpless. She needed a hero, needed someone to save her. Save her from their stares, their words, their refusal to help her. They wouldn't even do her business to give her food to eat. No one would let her buy cloth to make clothes for the infant. They wouldn't let her do anything. They tortured her. She would starve to death soon. That much is certain. With no help and no one to turn to or nowhere to go? She was a goner. Even with the bulge on her stomach of a woman about 4 or 5 months pregnant, one could see her face was thin and so was her arms and legs showing her malnourishment.
She was in the streets begging for food. She recalled, the last thing she'd eaten had been some bread. Where she'd gotten it she couldn't remember. That was too long ago. When had she eaten last? She could remember what it was but not when? It must have been quite awhile ago.
Her hair was like fire. An auburn mess of ringlets that dropped down her back to just above her derriere. Though at the current time it was rather tangled and dirty from being on the streets. She was petite, even while she was pregnant. One could easily see she was all baby weight. She only stood at a height of 5'1. Not exceptionally short, but height deprived enough to be considered so. The pregnancy had brought out the woman's natural curves, her breasts had grown, but so had her stomach evening the balance. Her eyes were a bright aquamarine blue. She bore a line of freckles across her cheeks and nose that would crinkle when she laughed. Her skin was a pale as porcelain but smudged with dirt, bruises, bloodied cuts, scars from old ones. Reminders of the many beatings she'd already received and stonings out of towns. She wore her hair in a ponytail that draped over her back. It at least got the hair out of her face. There were scars and bruises on her arms and legs to accompany the rest of her broken body that had yet to heal from them stoning her out of multiple towns over her condition. She wore an emerald dress with golden embroidery on the sleeves of it. It was torn and tattered and also dirty. It appeared even to be too small for her large belly now.
The woman was weary from so much travel. She was tired and wanted to rest, but she couldn't afford to. She was eating for two, and she needed food desperately. She wobbled to a bakers door. She was stopped at the front by an angry man. "Shoo! Shoo! Get out of here whore!" Kieara frowned tears streaking her dirt stained cheeks. "Please sir....I am begging, may I just have a bit of bread?...."
He glared. The larger man boomed in an angry voice. "No! Now get!" He shouted giving the woman a shove. She stumbled backwards a bit finally falling onto her behind in the cobblestone street. She pushed herself up weakly to go in search of food elsewhere.