I watched her cry as she looked around in panic for help. “Πάρτε το παιδί. Πάρε την κόρη μου και τρέξε την Τζέιν. Τρέξτε και μην κοιτάτε ποτέ”
(Take the child. Take my daughter and run Jane. Run and never look back)
A woman who spoke was on the ground dying, just like the others, her flesh was sunken into her bones and she was beginning to look like a skeleton.
She reached out to touch the girl but her fingers had dried up and were slowly turning to dust. The girl ran over to her but got held back but someone. I recognized her, Aunt Jane.
“Mum! No!” she yelled in protest, her legs kicked off the sand as she struggled against her aunt but it was in vain.
“Mum?” I whispered and everything went black.
The next time I opened my eyes, I felt tears on my cheeks. My mood was sour and my
