My Kind of Perfect

13th ツ

13th ツ

There are certain things that can make a girl feel crazy. At times, it is that feeling that she never asked for. The one that will catch her off guard. Yet, at the same time, it is that same feeling that can make her realize that everything is finally starting to fall into their right places.

“Wait! You're not making me walk that far!” I protested, looking at the map that John was holding in hand. From where we had assumed we were and the resort that Dorothy was talking about, the freaking distance was vast. It was murderously vast, that as if just by thinking about it, it already shot us dead.

“Whose fault was it that we were in this kind of situation?” asked John.

“Of course, it was yours. If you only knew how to get that stupid car out of the mud, we wouldn't be in this kind of situation in the first place,” I said back to him, meeting his irritated eyes.

“But it was your idea that we make a road out of nowhere,” he continued the argument, emphasizing more on the 'nowhere' part.

“My idea was fine. Blame it on your lack of driving skills,” I told him, holding my arms across my chest.

“My driving skills?”

Oh crap, I hit the wrong button.

No one should even dare talk about his driving skills. For him, that certain skill was his gift. It was, like, he believed that he lived just to drive. Don't make me elaborate about it any further, for I also had no idea why that was so.

But taking on the gun and pointing it to my head, I continued, “Yes, I'm sure I said the right thing. If it wasn't for...”

I froze instantly in place, and my whole body went numb. Even though we were in the middle of an argument, I clearly heard that fluky grunt. I looked at John and saw how the color drifted off from his face.

Now what was that?

We both heard it, and I was not imagining things. It was the sound of snapping of twigs followed by a scoff or something, whatever that was. But surely, it wasn't a pleasant sound to hear when you were just by yourselves and lost in the depths of the woods in this mountain located in the middle of nowhere.

“You think...” I started saying, my words trembling as they made their way out of my mouth.

He met my quivering eyes, and I saw him nervously swallow the lump in his throat. Then he said, “I think that it's...”

Another twig snapped again, sending shivers to my skin. “Goodness!”

“Kaye, I think it's a...”

And before he could finish off what he was trying to say, a black boar—that was definitely provoked by our presence—appeared from behind a tree. As if making its grand entrance even more spectacular, he scoffed angrily and scraped his hoofs on the ground.

“Let's find a higher ground,” John whispered to me.

“Why are you whispering? It's not like the boar can understand you,” I told him, trying to get the thoughts out of my head or it might just kill me, if not the angry boar would do that part.

“Stop throwing words back to me. I'm serious. We should find some kind of a higher ground,” he hissed.

The boar jeered again, moving closer to us.

I was instantly alarmed. “Higher ground?”

“Oh good, now you're listening,” John said back, holding my arm.