Burned At The Stake

I woke to the smell of smoke. I opened my eyes and saw I was tied to a stake.

A roaring fire blazed only a few feet from me.

People were standing around, gawking and whispering as they watched.

A bulky guard with beefy hands unrolled a parchment. His voice boomed out across the open field.

"Cinderella, by order of King Loyalor, supreme ruler over the land of Polonias, you are hereby sentenced to burn at the stake until such time as you are dead." He glanced at me, and through the billowing smoke I held his gaze. He cleared his throat. "Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

Only one word popped into my head. "Merde." A curse word in French.

One of my favorites.

Truthfully, it was the only one I remembered.

The man rolled his eyes along with the parchment and stepped off the podium and into the noisy crowd.

"Gabe," I whispered before repeating his name in my mind over and over. "I need you."

Another guard shoved a torch into the fire, lighting it.