The voice of the minority means nothing in a world that is corrupt. No matter whether you were telling the truth or speaking for the greater good of all, your voice was an insignificant whine in the ears of the powerful. They didn’t care. Why would they? You didn’t matter to them or really to anyone – hell they don’t even attempt to learn your name. Over the short time I have survived in this kingdom, I’ve learnt how the world really works. Opportunities do not come to those who wait, you have to try and fight for what you truly believe in – even if it means going to extreme ends to do so.

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There was nowhere to run. My feet had no more ground to cover, no more trails to break and the feelings of hope that I had once clung too were washing away with the roaring tide behind me. I had always loved the sea ever since I was young; however this time there was no comfort to be drawn from it. The sea would be my demise, if the guns of my pursuers did not cut me down first. Harsh breaths tore through my lungs, grasping at any scraps of oxygen I could consume to stop the dots from swimming before my eyes. Tinges of darkness danced at the edge of my vision, taunting and beckoning me to join them in the welcoming arms of unconsciousness but I could not allow myself the luxury of rest.

My forest behind me was vast, with towering jungle trees looming over me – their vines draping across branches and twisting around bark all the way to the foliage below. The once noisy sounds of birds singing and wildlife screeching in protest as I had run past had fallen silent, the animals sensing the oncoming storm and awaiting its passing. However the wind never ceased, falling into rhythm with the roars of the breaking waves, whipping across my face and sending shivers down my spine. I could feel the cold sea spray spattering onto the back of my neck, soaking into my shirt and making the stones underneath my shoes awash with water. It was death trap wherever I looked.

My muscles were screaming in agony, begging me to just lie down even for one moment to allow them some respite but I could not. If I sat down now then I wouldn’t be able to get back up again. I had made a promise to myself that I would keep running, continue to allow the doubt to settle into the people of the land and hopefully bring about the revolution in our once perfect homeland. What use were an army if they couldn’t catch one girl? How safe were the citizens in the main city if the guards that patrolled them couldn’t stop one criminal? The seeds of doubt were already planted and it was up to me to help them grow. Time was short. I knew that and those pursuing me knew it also. I was the fish and the line was slowly being reeled in, despite my efforts of struggling. The endgame was afoot.

The rustling of the once silent forest indicated the final grains of sand draining from my personal hourglass.

I tore myself away from the sea to stare blankly at the soldiers who emerged from the dense forest. Dressed head to toe in full combat gear and armed with various forms of rifles and shotguns, the fear they struck into my heart would have been obvious to anyone who took the effort to look me in the eye. Even as a fugitive, I was a nobody. The sound of combat boots crushing the foliage on the once peaceful forest floor filtered into my ears, momentarily drowning out the roar of the endless waves behind me. Dozens of faces stared across at me, disgust and loathing etched into their skin and fury blazing behind their eyes. They knew the crime I had committed and if the rumours were true, all the men who stood before me had volunteered to hunt me down and execute me as ordered by our oh-so-wonderful leader.

Over my months of being a fugitive, I had learnt not to fear death. I had faced down these gun barrels on countless occasions and every single time I had accepted the possibility of dying. If I did not give these savages the satisfaction of using death as a threat against me then they had no power over me at all – allowing me to escape time and time again. The cockiness they once all wore across their faces was gone, replaced with exhaustion and irritation as they faced off against me again for hopefully the final time. There was one person missing from their line-up, a face that I had grown to recognise and loath both in our frequent meetings and in the late hours of night when he haunted me within my nightmares – giving me no peace from my crimes. Sadly the joy I felt over his absence was short lived as he too emerged from the trees brandishing his signature gold knife, which he used to carve into the skin of his victims as a final reminder of the consequences of breaking the law.

“Dear sweet Zelda. Isn’t it nice to seeing me again? You’ve played a good game of cat and mouse here darling but sadly this delightfully romantic location will be the final round of our little game. You are a murderer, you have broken the law and you will be punished in accordance with your crime. The penalty for murder is execution by firing squad and we have many willing volunteers!”

A menacing wave of laughter echoed through the soldiers, smirks replacing the disgust as their fingers itched towards the rifles they held at their sides. My nameless tormentor strolled closer towards me, almost skipping with glee as his eyes searched me for some form of weapon. When his gaze fell upon the small bulge at my waist, a brief frown flashed across his face and a hint of worry filled his eyes as he stopped his advance. Despite the clear advantage in numbers and firepower they held over me, they didn’t know truly who I was or what I was capable of. They had files about everyone in the kingdom, with lists of abilities and weaknesses, family members and interests. Luckily for me there was no file of my own. I wasn’t important enough to be suspected of being even a minor threat. That was what had given me an advantage.

His words had no effect on me; I had heard this speech dozens of times before by a range of different cocky individuals who all thought the same. Not once had I been asked what my last name was, whether I had any family or friends back in the main city and nobody had even bothered to check the truth behind the events that led to my hunting. Why would you listen to the criminal’s side of the story? They’d obviously lie, wouldn’t they? My mother used to tell me that even when others judged me, I had the moral high ground and that was all that mattered. Despite how comforting this memory was, it was of no use to my predicament. I highly doubted that all these men who had hunted me for so long and so ruthlessly would just turn and leave if I told them I had the moral high ground.

I smirked at the soldiers, turning my vision to meet each of their eyes slowly as their thirst for fear and blood continued to go unsatisfied. My tormentor attempted to take a step closer but I was ready for him. I pulled out my small handgun. It was a small model, tiny enough to generally be ignored by most people unless they were specifically looking for a weapon but had enough power to protect me as a final resort. As I was trained by my father, I focused the centre of the barrel on the leader’s chest causing him to freeze in place. Despite their claims, I had never killed before and the idea of taking a human life was horrifying to me but it was me or him. I could feel remorse later.

As I turned the safety off, I heard the cocking of dozens of guns and as I glanced away for a second from my gun I saw every single gun being aimed at my heart or at my head. There was little chance of me surviving this, nowhere to run or to hide. I had nothing to do and they all knew it. Another fugitive full of false bravado, merely another corpse to add to the pile and another payment to collect at the end of the day – that was all I was to them. Another minority. I wasn’t going to let that happen, I had to make my mark on them for the sake of everyone. I couldn’t just be another statistic, a rumour with no true solution. Drastic times called for drastic measures.

I threw my gun away from me. I tossed it as far away as I could and watched as the soldiers turned to watch it fly away, pure confusion filling their features and distracting them from their prize. Using this small moment of distraction I did the unexpected.

I jumped.

I flew off the edge of the cliff with the wind whistling through my ears, drowning out the cries of outrage echoing from the soldiers up top. The sea spray blasted my vision, causing my eyes to stream with burning tears and my clothes to become water logged against my shivering body. Jagged rocks stuck up from the ocean floor, their sharp tips glistening with sea water and growing closer with every passing millisecond that I fell. With my final breath, I curled into a ball and hit the waves with a sickening crack.

Everything went dark.