When the Sun Shines

     I awaken hazily in our safe house. A candle gently illuminates the room. Soft snores from my allies sigh a lament of a long journey. Even after a full night's sleep, my muscles still ache. I stifle the voices of pain that seek freedom from my lungs as I approach the exit door. I push aside the door and step outside.

     The soft hiss of rain sprays the ground and taps the overhang. Water droplets trickle down the brick wall surrounding our secluded haven. Overcast skies whispered impending hardship upon us all.

     I return inside to see sleeping comrades once again. Pillows, blankets, and bodies lie haphazardly about the room. An array of weaponry sits along the wall. The leather is worn, the iron, rusted. Moss has grown in through the cracks in the walls. The air is damp and musty, as if we've been sleeping in our own graves. I hear the soft yawn of a child squeak at my feet.

     My eyes fell to meet the figure of my younger sister, Isabel. "Anne?" she whispered. "When are we leaving?"

     I froze, and thought for a moment. Living like we do, I fear we may never truly leave. I started to speak, but I choked on my words. Wearily, I replied, "We'll leave when the sun shines again."

     I didn't have the heart to tell her the truth.