Diamonds Fall Read Free Page A

The brief spells of unconsciousness were her one relief. The sound of the river running beside them was the only constant Annabel could find. Her heightened sense of hearing clung to the noise desperately, convinced that should the sound cease to exist then so, in turn, should she.
    Panicked, Annabel awoke one morning to silence. The gentle trickle of the stream had vanished. She was lying flat on a cold surface, the strong stench of urine filling her nostrils. With a scream, her eyes flew open.
    Annabel tried to sit up but a hand pushed her back down to the floor. Pain shot through every muscle like fire. She screamed and kicked out her legs despite the hurt, noticing within seconds they were no longer bound. A strong, warm hand covered her mouth. At this she went limp. She knew where this was going so she resigned herself to it, tears sliding silently into her hair. Several seconds went by but still nothing happened.
    "Shh...can't wake `em," a voice next to her kept muttering over and over again. The hand moved from her mouth and began stroking her hair rhythmically away from her face. Glancing around, Annabel noticed she was lying on the grimy floor of a stable. Two surprisingly clean plough horses stood in the corner, crunching on a pile of fresh hay. Thick cobwebs spanned the length of the ceiling, swaying in a slight breeze whilst dust floated in a thin beam of light coming from a window mostly hidden up in the rafters. A rickety ladder, tied together with frayed string, rested on the edge of a second floor - a loft of sorts. Directly opposite her stood a muddy stable door, the imprints of large horse shoes had splintered the wood.
    Annabel curled into a tight ball. She was still wearing the same dress she had left the manor in an immeasurable amount of days before, although it was soiled and torn beyond recognition. Adding to her gruesome appearance, dried blood covered both her clothes and skin.
    "Okay, okay. Billy here," she heard beside her ear. It sounded like the voice of a child - innocent and reassuring. She reached up to the hand stroking her hair, tears now coming thick and fast from her eyes as sobs racked her body from head to toe.
    "Okay, okay," the voice repeated over and over again.
    Annabel drifted in and out of consciousness that day, drinking water that Billy held up to her expectant lips. She didn't eat anything and she didn't speak. She just lay there, her eyes squeezed shut as if by pretending this was all a bad dream, she would eventually wake up on the morning of her eighteenth birthday, when her life was supposed to have begun.
    The gentle noises of the horses always brought her back to her harsh reality.
    As dawn peeked its way back through a high, filthy window, Annabel opened her eyes and turned to look at Billy for the first time. What she saw made her gasp.
    The person stroking her hair was an adult, probably even older than herself, although it was impossible to tell by how much. His eyes were fixed in a vacant expression she had only ever seen on the children from the asylum.
    Billy was plump, whilst still having the appearance of being grossly underfed. He had a round, pink face and white blonde hair that looked as though it had been cut with a blunt knife. His eyes were small but a beautiful shade of hazel that glittered as they fixed on Annabel's.
    None of the opinions regarding these people were favourable in her society. Yet Billy had been the one helping her. He was probably the reason she was still something close to alive. He had been kind when there was no need for him to be, something that bemused Annabel completely. She gripped Billy's hand tightly whilst he continued to pat her head. Her heart ached with fondness for his unwarranted compassion.
    "You like horses?" he asked after a while, shattering the heavy silence. His voice was deep but playful.
    Annabel nodded. Billy stood up, walking over to a chestnut horse with a white star between its eyes.
    "This Troy."
    He caressed the