A long and piercing shriek filled the air, its echoes pulsing around the room. It was a terrible sound, filled with horror, anger and perhaps even hatred. A slight scuffling sound, and then it was just that awful scream.
A dagger briefly flashed in the little light permitted by the tiny window. There was a muffled grunt, and the sobs broke off into sobs. Silence fell at last, except for the little girl that was lying on the dirt floor in a huddle, gasping for breath.
The little girl curled up tightly into a ball, still crying. The little girl is me, I thought, finally gasping the air I needed down. I forced myself into a kneeling position, and lifted the hand that still clenched the dagger.
“Blood,” I whispered, a hint of panic in my voice. I dropped the dagger, which thudded to the ground. “Blood, on my hands!” I gripped my hair, screaming frantically again. That was when I passed out, the world going black.