Chapter 2

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Amelia was wandering around the woods, looking for something to small to eat. Her clothes were old and barely fit her anymore with holes. She was shivering, cold, and hungry. She leaned up against a tree, waiting for wolves to come and eat her.

She ran away from home two years ago. But she's wishing more than ever that she was back into that high society living where she was warm, fed, and safe. She was waiting to be killed. She wanted to be killed. Just so she could stop suffering. Struggling. Hurting.

But then she was saved. From someone she never thought would come along.

"Miss?" A young man's voice sounded next to her. She didn't dare open her eyes. "Miss, are you alright?"

Amelia shifted her eyes open, looking up at the man.

"Miss, do you need help?"

Amelia could help but break down. She was tired. She was hungry. She was cold.

She suddenly felt a warm wool coat wrap around her with strong arms pulling it tightly. She opened her tear stained eyes to see the man as he snapped it closed. He looked down at the young woman and smiled.

"It'll be okay, Miss." He said softly.

"Thank..." she choked through her tears, "...you."

"You're welcome," he took a seat next to her, "have you eaten anything recently?"

Amelia wiped away her tears. "Two days ago." She sniffled. "It was only some berries."

The man hummed as he took out a can of strawberries. "Here, eat this."

Amelia stared at the can of strawberries before taking it. She pulled the lid open and looked down at the fresh fruits. She used her fingers to stuff them in her mouth. The man chuckled as he watched the young woman eat hungrily.

After Amelia finished, she placed the empty can down on the ground in front of her and shook out her blonde hair.

"Thank you, Mister." She said softly.

"Arthur."

"Amelia Davis."

Arthur stretched out his legs, leaning back on his arms. "How you end up out here in the wilderness anyway?"

Amelia smiled. "I ran away from home."

"You from the west?"

"No," Amelia laughed, "god no," she looked over at Arthur, "I'm from New York. High society."

"What made you run away?" Arthur asked as he sat up.

Amelia sighed, pulling the coat tighter around her body. "My daddy was a drunk, my momma was drug addict. They cared more about money than me and I had enough. So, the maid and butler helped me pack my things and run. They got me enough money to take a train and here I am, seventeen and on the brink of dying of starvation." Amelia chuckled sadly. "I think I'd rather be at home living in shit than out here."

Arthur hummed. "Yeah I understand that."

"I don't even know how to defend myself."

"Well," Arthur stood, "let's fix that then, shall we?"

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"Amelia, you're still too tense," Arthur placed his hands on her shoulders from behind her, "relax."

"How can I relax when I'm holding an object that can kill someone?"

Arthur chuckled. "It can only kill someone if you fire in the wrong place at the wrong time," Arthur lowered her hands that held his revolver tightly. "Loosen your grip a bit. The tighter you hold, the more kick you'll get from it."

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