I've posted this prologue on here a few times now, this is like the tenth draft. Please read, rate and critique This part and another couple of chapters are third person, but most of the book is first person. It doesn't make entire sense but all is explained in the following chapters. Thanks in advance.

Silent tears slipped down Sofia's cheeks as she trudged through the forest, branches snapping under her feet. The pale moonlight illuminated her ashen face and the straggly russet tresses that tumbled over her shoulders. She was trembling; unable to feel the light weight in her arms. For miles, she had been walking through fields and the eerily silent forest where not even the owls hooted. Her legs ached to the point where she just wanted to collapse. That was when she caught sight of the thick cluster of spiky bushes that Chris had told her to head for. In front was a small cluster of yellow flowers that contrasted with the rest of the drab forest.

She fell to her knees, laid her bundle to one side and dug desperately through the soft, crumbling dirt with her bare hands. Her fingers numbed by the cold air and pain of sticks and stones cutting her skin and collecting under her nails. Her arms were covered in hundreds of tiny scratches from the thistles and thorns, but she would just have to withstand the irritation. It was nowhere near as bad as the emotional torture she was suffering from. The hole she had dug was just big enough amidst the brambles. She took a huge breath, as if it were her first, as she wiped a muddy hand across her cheek. Her tears left tracks in the dirt on her face. She laid down what she had been carrying, placing it carefully in the hole and covering it up and mumbling some words. She rose to her feet, wobbling slightly as she did so. As exhausted as she was, she ran out of the murky forest, the crisp night air biting at her cheeks. She had to get away from that place.

As she ran, she was overcome by a strange sense of relief. She had to cry as it helped her release her emotions, but somewhere inside, she believed she had done the right thing. Anyone could tell her she hadn't, but she didn't really have any other choice. She had argued with herself about it so much that something that at first seemed so wrong, now seemed to be the best thing to have done. Chris made her do it; he didn't want to be caught but didn't seem to care if Sofia did. Occasionally she wondered if he cared about anything she did, but he had picked her up off the ground when she most needed it and she couldn't help but love him for that.