MMC #5

I am participating again in the Monday's Minute Challenge as seen on Tessa Emily Hall's blog "Christ is Write."

It is exactly 300 words long and I used the sentence prompt.




Kathleen sat swaying gently in a rocking chair by her snug cabin’s small berth, watching the flames rise and swirl and listening to the

logs crackle.  She normally felt peaceful in moments such as these, but worries now weighed heavily upon her mind.  She sighed and ceased rocking, allowing her gaze to travel nervously towards the window.  She reached over and retrieved a leather bound journal and dipping quill in ink, began to write.

I am frightened.  When will John return?  I sense the natives growing restless and I fear they are no longer our friends.

She closed her eyes and let herself drift into slumber.  She dreamt of John and picnics by the sparkling river and gentle kisses against the setting sun.
So safe.
She was jarred awake by a rustling sound near the door. 
John!  Kathleen thought excitedly and rising quickly, rushed to the door.  “John!  I thought you would never return! I-” She felt her stomach sink as she beheld dark faces of men—unfriendly men.  Blood colored paint was etched on their visages and their dark eyes held a murderous glint.
Kathleen trembled but attempted as best she could to appear friendly.  “C-can I help you?”
“No.” The tallest brave answered hostilely.  “We have what we need.”
Kathleen felt chills run through her as she recognized the face from which the voice emanated.  “John?” 
He pointed a finger her direction.  “Take her and burn the house.” 
She stood back slowly, and then darted towards the end of the cabin.  “Help!” She screamed.  “Please help!”  But too many miles stood between her and salvation.  She sank to the floor moaning.  “Why?  Oh, John…”
Hot breath warmed the back of her neck and she heard him whisper gently: “Because I’m the only one who can get us out.”