Escape - Chapter 8

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We got into the house shortly after the winged man left, Helia having to do something else. I’m more than thankful for the excuse.

We reach the house in time to see Hezayah and Nikos land in front of it.

“Is it alright for you to stay out in the light, Earth human?” Nikos lifts an eyebrow at me, a grin plastered on his face. His hair is tied back into a braid that goes down his back. “Have you finally found out your ability?”

I roll my eyes at him before I follow Helia’s lead into the house. It’s nice when Nikos is like that, but, at the moment, I’m not really up for it.

“Is Amma on her way home?” Nikos says as he enters the house.

As if on cue, Reuel runs in, his chubby arms held out as he heads to Helia.

“Helia! Amma’s being mean.” He says as he hugs Helia’s hips, reminding me so much of Rory. Helia’s about the same height as me and it brings back several memories.

“Why is that, Reuel?” Helia says as she gingerly unwraps his arms from her hips and bends down to pick him up, bring him to her eye level.

 Before the child can reply, Melia steps through the threshold after Hezayah. “Because he made a mess in the apothecary today, so no Finaril for him.”

Crap. That’s what it took to skip out on Finaril? I’ll bash the whole apothecary down, then.

Finaril is some really odd and mucky looking jelly, the primary ingredient of which Melia extracts from a blue plant. It tastes… peculiar.

“I’ll go get some shut eye.” I yawn, feeling suddenly exhausted.

“We will wake you for supper.” Hezayah says as I disappear into the room.

That’s what I need right now. Sleep.

I take off the boots and head over to the bed, pulling the blanket over my shoulder.

Maybe I’ve finally lost it and become paranoid. I honestly don’t think that that many people are all out to find me.

Seriously.

It isn’t really possible.

My heart is still racing and I’m wide awake.

Going out isn’t exactly a choice because of my, now apparent, paranoia. So, I lay back and let my thoughts run free.

It strays to a memory of Rory a year ago, when she first started going to kindergarten. She had cried her eyes out and refused to let go of Mom. Dad had to carry her in, and even then she had still wailed like only a toddler could.

“Aris! Aris!” She cried reaching out for me as Dad had picked her up. “Don’t leave me, Aris!”

I walked beside Dad as he brought her into the school. When he put her down, I kneeled so that I was eye level with her, holding her hands in mine.

“I’ll be here when you come out, okay?” I said, squeezing her hands.

“But I don’t want to be here, Aris.” She said, sniffling. “What if the other children don’t like me?”

“Of course they’ll like you!” I exclaimed. “You’re pretty and you’re very nice.”

“But I’m scared!” She wailed as she wrapped her arms around my neck.

“Oh, Rory.” I said as I rubbed her back. I pulled back. “Remember, they’re scared, too.” I pointed at the other children, who were crying as well.

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