The Lynching

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It was the afternoon of a hot July day. The radiant rays of the sun beamed, across every inch of the yard and beyond the furthest tree. The scenery was almost motionless apart from the one bird coupe in the tree’s chirping delightfully at one another and not forgetting a small little girl who was lying amongst the green healthy looking grass. Along side the girl was a big shabby looking dog, which resembled a rug on what the girl was resting on. Both of them seemed quiet lifeless as the heat appeared to be draining all the energy out of them.

The sun had just drawn itself from behind a small cloud and had shone down directly on the little girl, who had pulled her father’s hat down a little more over her eyes. Her thin face was now hardly visible except for her wild, curly, dirty blond hair which stuck out the sides of the hat like thatched straw. Every part of the little girl was defined: small, dainty, thin and had golden, slightly tanned skin which was a result of her continuous naps in from of the sun.

As minutes passed the humidity in the atmosphere was making her feel quiet oblivious to everything in her surroundings and made her fell moderately drowsy. Her eyelids kept on opening and closing as they gradually became heavier and much harder to control, before she knew it she gave a little of satisfaction and drifted off…

…the hammering of the heavy rain smashed against the windows of a small girl who had just awoke shocked from the rattling of the window. The small curly haired withdrew from under covers, drew up her knees to her chin and embraced them whilst she pulled herself together. After adjusting she became more focused and realised there was a lot of commotion coming from outside, not forgetting the thunderous outbursts, this sprang a look of curiosity amongst her thin face. With huge interest she removed her knees from her chin and jumped out of bed with hast, the floor gave a slight creek due to the surprise pressure, without hesitating she preceded to the window.

Outside the discussion was becoming more intense and the rain lashed harder against her bedroom window. In the distance she could make out, jus faintly, a small group of people pack tightly around the big oak tree in the middle of the yard. This gathering intrigued her more was it was quiet late and there were people in her yard, so she left her bedroom window and made for the staircase.

Emily crept through the dark, narrow passage on the tips of her toes down the stairs trying not to disturb anyone on her way. On the last step she noticed a shabby rug-like dog lying in front of the main window in the living room where of which Emily was heading for. Now that she was in closer range she began to hear more talking but the quarrelling had calmed and become more of an encouragement chant, this made her more inquisitive. Speeding up her pace she sneaked over the dog, moved a vase to the side and hopped onto the window sill. As the rain eased off slightly she cracked the window open, a brief gust of chilling wind and rain rushed in, direct to Emily’s face, she closed the window out amazement.

The chanting was being drowned with screams, more prepared this time round she opened the window again as the curiosity and eagerness had reached its peak, it was a though she’d seen a got of gold. The visibility of the yard had increased and she could now make out what the commotion was all over. There was a black man attached to one of the branches on the big oak tree by rope. He was going to be lynched… a look of fear over powered her curiousness and forced her to pull away from the window, but had soon put her face flat against the window pane in disbelief. Her instincts were correct. It was Emily’s father who stood out in the group as he was the only one his night clothes and was the closest to the coloured man. Her eyes passed continuously from her father to the Blackman, as the moment became more intense, the small crowd silenced as if they were mutes.

Emily’s hands were pressed upon the window. She could feel the moment drawing nearer. Her eyes were at present transfixed on the petrified, ageless face of the man who was tied to the tree, she couldn’t take it anymore. She faced back into the room, put her hands over her ears and tried to concentrate on something else, but as she done this the piercing screams went straight through her. She knew exactly what had just happened. Her father, now a murderer had just removed the bucket, the last thing that had stood between the black man seeing his family again.

A little tear was released from her eye, the one which she was trying to hold back. Shaken and distraught she slowly turned around to look at the scene one last time before she slouched off the window ledge. Immediately Emily noticed the man just hanging there lifeless, motionless and started to snivel, she dropped her head into her lap as she lazily shut the window. More tears were rushing down her pale thin face. Remembering that her father was now on his way back to the house, she started to stroll back to her room.

As soon as she had reached the passage Emily heard footsteps which were nearing rapidly. Frantically, she made a run for the stairs but she was too late. She paused. Her heart was racing as the door was being pushed open; a figure was now emerging in the doorway. Her heart had now almost skipped a beat. The door was fully open and her father was standing at the door soaked through from the rain, he was scowling at her.

“I didn’t see anything!” Emily cried out, her hands flapping hysterically as she startled out of her sleep. She rose up and took a look around. There was no sign of her father but only her shabby looking dog and an open field. She quickly took a couple deep breaths of fresh air to re-cooperate herself, realizing it wasn’t actually occurring but was a bad memory which she had recalled. Emily lay back down, closed her eyes and wiped her face clear from the stained tears.

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