"Get out! Scram!" A bulky, crimson faced man stood in the doorframe of an unkempt shack, yelling angrily. "And don't ye return!" He turned around and hobbled back into he house, wiping his greasy hands on his shirt and grumbling lowly about the "Damn beggar."
The 'damned beggar' was a girl of about 17 or 18, with thick, curly, unruly brown hair and deep cerulean eyes set like gems in her pale, almost sickly, complexion. Her dark hair was nestled with thorns and leaves, and her complexion darkened by the coat of dirt on it. Her face wore a tired expression, and tears streamed down her cheeks, leaving pathways in the grime. Anybody passing her on the street would not have glanced at this scrawny, pitiful being. But if they had, they may have seen the beauty hidden behind the tears, dirt and wildlife settling on her. This fair being had lost hope, and, after traveling and searching for many months, she gave up. This was the last straw. Nobody would give her a roof or food for even one night, and she coudn't resort to stealing or unhonorable means to achieve this. So, when this butterfly of hope finally died, she stumbled blindly around the land. She did not try to beg for food or help; she hadn't achieved anything from it, just heartache; and she had no home.
So she just traveled, walking in the elements, braving mother natures worst. After many days and nights of this hazy travel, she came across a field of grass, so soft and welcoming, that she crumpled to her knees. She lay down on this sea of grass, waiting for the end. While she lay, she told her self a story about this grass, weaving it in and out of her fingers, entangling her hand in it. She imagined that it was a field of, not grass, but tiny faes, wearing green, waving goodbye to her, the Faery Queen. She was not dying, but she was going off into an eternal battle, from which she would never return. The feas were very sad to hear this, and the heavens grieved with the torrential downpours that had assaulted her for the previous weeks. She smiled softly, and breathed on the sweet smell of the dirt and crisp morning air as the sound of thunder fell quietly upon her ears. Then, her hand dropping, she drifted off into blackness.
A/N: So, this is a fairy tale (obviously,) and I would really appreciate you reviewing it. Critical, nice, helpful; any type of it. So, review! Thanks! First chapter up sooner if more reviews. (Yes, I am evil. Bribery rocks!)