My Blue Rose.
One year had passed since the unspoken leader of our rebellion had been killed. Shot dead in front of my eyes. I dream about her death every night.
We continued her work. We struck back.
We had waited to end the reign of the gray castle for eons. Tonight, the end seemed near.
Inside, the darkness lay in wait for my tortured mind. All else was enveloped by its foul cloak. I could hear soft, rhythmic sounds as if somebody was breathing. As my eyes slowly adjusted to the cold and bare surroundings, I glimpsed the silhouette of a woman. Settling into the best possible position that my cramped cell allowed for; I gazed out of the grilled windowpane that offered the only light to my eyes- the crescent moon. It shined as best it could but on such a gloomy night its glow seemed dull and far off.
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