Female First Person Narration - Historical Suspense
Description
Vocal Characteristics
Language
EnglishVoice Age
Young Adult (18-35)Accents
British (General)Transcript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
my need for a weapon seemed even stronger. I looked around my room again, my desperate eyes flicking from bed, tow wall to floor and back again with great speed. Then my gaze rested on the mirror. I was not very good at knowing where I wass in relation to anything else. Mentally and physically. I had little idea of where in the house I wass or what lay above and below me. I wasn't even sure how many floors above ground I wass. I only knew that wherever I had bean, I had always walked for several minutes without coming across under the member of the household, be they staff or family. I decided to chance it. And really, what have I to lose? Lifting the mirror down from the wall? I looked at it for a moments, then across it Vivian, where she lay snoozing on the bed. Then I dropped it on the floor. It shattered mostly into useless flecks of silver and light, but there was one pace from the edge which would do. It was most lender than I would have liked, and I wasn't sure it would necessarily survive being plunged into someone's throat but it would certainly do plenty of damage on the way. Fearful of being discovered, I immediately flicked that the most useful piece out of sight under the bed and waited in silence for several long, slow minutes. Nothing, not even Vivian staring in the bed. She was just watching me. I scooped her up into my arms and held her closely, listening to the sound of her breathing close to my ear. Together, we waited a few minutes longer, but nobody came. I wrapped the end of the shard of glass in a handkerchief, Michael's handkerchief that he had given May so long ago. At last I thought, he's helping me. My bag was already mostly packed, but I added the sketchbook and pencil a few, uh, Vivian's clothes and then a blanket from the bed. It seemed wise to be prepared. Then all I could do was wait. I fell asleep. Darkness came and my body drained on my brain, burned out like the dead end of a candle gave up on me. The adrenaline had kept away and the hours alone taking with it the last of my energy. I slept deeply, more deeply than I had cat too more deeply, indeed than I had slept. For a long as I could remember, the smoke would have overtaken me, but I was stirred by the sound of heavy and crying beside me. No light of the day remained, but the room was alive with the flicker of fire creepy across the bottom of the door. It was so damp that it seemed to have had trouble catching. But that created so much more smoke. Flames danced over the wood, and I watched it blister and split, sending a shower of sparks up into the air. For a moment, I was frozen in inaction. It was happening again, but Michael could not save me. Now I must save myself and Vivian. I probably did it all in the wrong order, but I didn't know what to do. Nothing prepared me for this. Now plays I had ever read heard, equip me with the useful skills for dealing with fires. Another fire