My Sun, My Drug, My Mate [ON HOLD]

CHAPTER VI

Hecate's POV

I'm walking along the dark paths, wandering as I have been doing for the past four hours. After I stormed out of school I didn't want to go back to Jonathan's and lie in bed without doing anything.

So I walked and walked, without paying any attention to where I was going. I got lost an hour ago, when I entered the woods, but I really don't care.

It's almost eight o'clock now and it's getting dark all around me. The trees are changing shape and the dormant forest is waking up. I hear all sorts of noises I couldn't before: the screeching of bats, the untimed singing of insects.

I think I hear a wolf howl once or twice, but it doesn't matter. I feel safe in the forest, protected. Just like I did back in the dream: I have a connection with nature and I just know it won't hurt me.

Any sane person would be scared out of their wits right now, trying to find the way back. Mind you, even if I wanted to there's no way I'd get out of here: my cell phone died. That means no calls, no GPS... just nature and I.

A smile creeps on my lips as I think of Jonathan. He must be looking for me right now, he probably already called the police or something. Still, I hope they don't find me: I'd rather stay in the woods than go back there. I fit in better here.

I check my electronic watch again, and it shows me that it's 22:27. Hm, later than I thought. I should really set up camp and get to sleep, if I want to get up early tomorrow and navigate my way out of here.

I have very little of use in my bag, since I wasn't expecting an overnight trip to the forest. Still, I adapt. I gather some dry wooden sticks and adjust them in a neat circle. I pick up some stones and make a circle around the wood.

I'm used to using street trash cans but, for some reason, there don't seem to be any in the forest. Who would have thought, right?

I smile at my own sarcasm. I know I look like a lunatic, but when you've had so much time alone you learn to keep yourself company. Others might not always be there, but you will.

For the first time in my life my smoking habit pays off. I take the lighter out of my bag and bend down to pick up a thin wooden stick. I press the tiny button, hoping for a flame, but all the lighter does is sputter a spark.

"Ugh, come on!" I try again and again but it doesn't work. I'm out of juice: great, just great.

I cuss loudly and pull at my hair in frustration. I kick some dirt before throwing the lighter as far away as I can.

I sigh deeply and sit down, holding my head in my hands. Being angry isn't going to help me, it never has. If you let anger and passion take charge, eventually you'll go blind. All you'll be able to see is red.

I don't want to see red anymore. It's been the predominant colour in my life. Anger, hate, blood. I can't stand the sight of it now.

I want to be able to see the colours of the world: the shades of blue that melt into the sky, the gold of the burning sun, the unexplainably both dark and light green of the forest trees. I want to see people's colours: the way the white light reflects off snow and into someone's eyes, the way someone's cheeks redden slightly in embarrassment, the shape of someone's full lips as they smile.

I sigh deeply. I've been blind all my life, and I didn't even know. I missed out on so much, all because other people led me to believe that red was all there is.

I feel regret, pouring from my heart. I feel it flow slowly into every part of me, until all I am left with is resignation.

I sigh again.