The End of The Beginning

Chapter 14

Chapter 14:

            Well, it is nightfall and I have absolutely nowhere to sleep but on a patch of dead brown grass next to the pathetic crackling fire I built. It is already dying considering I built it ten minutes ago. I am starting to freeze. The river next to me is churning. The moon reflecting on it reminds me of wolves and I shiver. I feel clammy. I’ll never be able to sleep.

            I’ve never been a religious person, but tonight, for the first time ever, I prayed. I prayed to God, the Greek gods, Roman gods, Egyptian gods, everyone. I want to live. I want to turn eighteen and twenty-one and raise a family. I want to die of old age, not because I’m “special” or because I escaped an evil orphanage. What sense does any of this make? I wish I could be dreaming and that tomorrow I’ll wake up in my own bed with my sister tackling me asking to go to the beach today because it is finally warm enough in Virginia to swim in the Ocean. We live just to the East of Richmond. Now I have no clue where I am anymore.

            I feel homesick and tired. I feel like crying. So what, I’m not the knight in shining armor of my story. I’m only fourteen for God’s sake! Why can I not live a normal life? Even when I had a family and lived in a nice house I never had a nice childhood. I had maybe five friends at the most and I was always a fifth wheel. Not even a third wheel, I was a fifth wheel.

Nobody even cared. I was bullied, weak and gangly. An egotistical asshole. My blonde hair was always a mess and in flames, as this one bitch used to say to me in seventh grade. My blue eyes always had bags under them, my emotional baggage much heavier. Publicly humiliated in third grade, misunderstood in fourth. Friendless in fifth to a social outcast in sixth. In seventh grade I had more friends. One girl, who would always make fun of me, a boy, who I spent every second of every day with, and a bunch of other people. I took the place of that boy’s old best friend, Anthony. He was adopted from India, but when he was a baby. He didn’t speak the language or have an accent. I thought I was nice to him, apparently he hated me.
            I would hate me too.

I feel a droplet of water cascade from my cheek to my chin. There are a few possibilities here. One, I’m crying, two, the river is going crazy, three, I’m going crazy, four, I’m sweating, or, five, it is raining. It could also be a wolf drooling over my face but I am seriously hoping against that. Two more drops fall on my face. Another on my arm and three on my legs. Rain. Drizzling, pouring. Ugh.

I huddle closer to the fire as the last of the embers die. My knees are compressed against my chest and my arms wrapped around. My hair is matted and my clothes are soaked. Drenched. Now I am praying for a wolf to just come and kill me. Why even bother living when I’ll surely soon die.

Stop. Stop, stop, stop. I can’t be a pessimist. I will not die a pessimist. I will not die.

I suppose sometime I fell asleep because now the golden sun is beating down on my soon to be sunburned neck. I hear splashes in the glistening water. As I groggily look over my suddenly strong shoulders I see a movement. At first, I thought it was a wolf, then I realized that it had the body of a human. Then my brain immediately goes to Rose, but I don’t see the fire hair anywhere. Instead, a waterfall of chocolate brown hair cascades down this girl’s back. She is tan, instead of fair skinned and quite a bit taller, slender, and less strong than Rose. She is wearing a toga like dress, a water nymph, she would be in Greek mythology. With all of the crap that has been going on lately, I wouldn’t be surprised.

She turns around and I see that she has electrifying blue eyes. Quite like my own, a few shades darker, even. Her skin isn’t dark, but it has a Hawaiian glow to it and her hair looks so much like chocolate you can almost taste it. Her blue eyes scorch my brain. She is searching me. Am I a threat?

She is the complete opposite of Rose. She doesn’t seem welcoming, but I don’t think she wants to kill me either…yet. She is walking toward me. I want to move but my feet aren’t working. I am glued to the grassy floor. Her hair is flowing behind her as she floats towards me. My eyes, glued open and my feet unable to move. I feel like the world is happening but I am not a part of it. I feel completely out of my mind. The girl is standing right next to me and I am afraid to open my mouth or even step back. That is…if I could.

“Who are you?” She asked cautiously, as if still unsure of my identity.

“Depends, who are you?”

“My friends call me Brook, for I spend so much time in the water.”

“I am Owen, but that is all I will tell you.”
“Fine, Owen.” Brook teased playfully. “What are you doing here?”

“Do you really wish to know?”

“Indeed, I do.”

“Alright, long story. I’m lost, on the run, etcetera, etcetera, I’m still unsure of whether to trust you or not, but I have a whole other list of issues.”

“Why should you trust me?”

“I’m not sure, maybe I shouldn’t”

“I’ll tell you why you should. I am a water nymph, hence spending all of my time in the water. I am a trustworthy person, just don’t get on my bad side. I know you are a runaway of Greystone Orphanage, I thought you would just tell me that, oh well. I can read minds, so don’t keep secrets. Don’t worry, I only do that when I’m suspicious!” She must have seen the look of shock on my face. “I do not wish harm upon you, so don’t fret. I make a lovely travel companion. Did I mention I have some abilities? No…well you’ll see.”

            Brook was smirking. Is that a good thing? Is she into me? No, don’t think about that, you love Rose. Urgh!

“Who is this Rose?”

“Shit, girl…Brook, why are you reading my mind?”

“Still trying to figure out if I trust you or not.”

“I’ll tell you stuff!”

“No worries, I know everything I need. I trust you.”

“Thank God.”

            At this point, being sufficiently confused, I walked away (my feet finally working) to get some wood to build a house. I can feel my mind being read and I feel vulnerable. So. Very. Vulnerable.

“If you want help building a house, or a shed, more like it, I can help.” Brook chirped.

            As I said, so very vulnerable. “Sure,” I agreed. “Make yourself useful.”