The music band stopped playing and all I could hear was the sound of the guns and the screams of one of the maids begging for her little child’s life. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t help. My dress got stuck on my wheelchair and I had fallen down. I managed myself to drag my body behind my father’s bureau. It was an impressive sequoia wood desk which belonged to my grandfather, Sir Thomas Arthenson.
It supposed to be a blissful day for all of us, it was a party, my party actually, to celebrate my 15 birthday but instead of being happy people were sobbing in misery. Human being is a very interesting specie when they feel they are at risk they don’t hesitate to save their own lives at all costs. My father witnessed it when his loyal partnership, Peter Waltz, betrayed him in our own home.
There was no escape, the only thought I had is that we all were going to die. After the sound of several shots a frightening silence came. No more shouting, no more tears, it was spooky; the only sound alive was the one of the wind hitting the picture windows.
I heard some steps coming nearby. The smell of the gunpowder was all around the room where I was hidden. The door opened and I saw a shadow coming in. I was only able to see his boots, a dirty and rough pair of boots. He examined the room looking for something or someone else… I had never been that terrified, just maybe that time when I got lost in the forest and mom finally found me, she was scary but nothing compare with that guy. The man came near the bureau, I closed my eyes, I thought that was the end, when he was about to discover me someone called his name and he left the room with some papers. I will never forget that name: Vlanys…