“No,” screamed Gretel.

“NOOOO,” she wailed bolting up into a sitting position. Beads of sweat ran down her forehead, and tears prickled her glassy eyes.

She tucked her knees to her chest, wrapping her trembling arms around herself. She struggled to breathe as memories flashed behind her eyelids, flooding her mind like a dam cracked open. Screams echoed in her ears and old wounds ached, centuries could pass and she still would remember the horror etched on her brothers face. The realisation that he won’t live another day, feel the warm kiss of the sun on his skin, taste fresh bread... or see his sister.

It had been years, Gretel was a grown women, had a simple life. Yet at night she was still tormented by the brutalities her brother endured. She was still a little girl lured into the same trap every night.

She laid back down, staring at the cracked ceiling, her blanket coiled around her legs. A single tear ran down her cheek, leaving a hot trail in its wake.

“I’m sorry,” she mouthed.