Blood Oath | Choso ੭﹕ ̊ ̟ ꒷꒦

2. Mourning

It takes about five minutes of silence for your thoughts to begin eating at you.  The reality of your situation started to sink in, giving you the opportunity to spend the long car ride wallowing in your own self-pity. As much as it made you want to scream, you had already accepted that your parents were dead. You tried to push down the nausea building in the pit of your stomach as your mind is racing. Your whole body was numb and prickly, wrecked with guilt over the whole situation.

You had been distracted when your parents were attacked, if you hadn't been, could you have saved them or would you have faced the same fate? The thought played on repeat in your mind.

You finally decided on the latter. After all, if  you did confront the blue haired man, your insides would likely be plastered on your living room wall with your parents'. You certainly couldn't have fought him. But could you really live without your family?  Sure, you guys fought over trivial matters but that was a given with strict parents. You wondered if you could live with this guilt, blaming yourself for your parents' end.

The car ride went by agonizingly slow. Paralyzed by your thoughts, you couldn't even enjoy the scenery whisking by. Your stomach rumbled but you knew for a fact you couldn't eat. Your stomach did flips at the thought of food causing you to scrunch yourself into your seat as much as you could, longing for any sort of pressure that could ease your upset stomach.

Almost as if he knew what was going on, Yaga paused before saying, "I know you're probably not hungry but we need you to eat." He held up a signal and the driver of the car pulled off onto a side road. You glared at the man. The man who has all the answers you were looking for yet, he was withholding them. You decided not to say anything, not knowing for sure if he was an ally or enemy. It would be better not to upset him.

You sat in your seat brooding as the driver maneuvered throughout the town you were in before stopping in front of a convenience store. Yaga asked you to come in but you stayed put, crossing your arms in protest. Sighing, he went inside anyway, without you, and emerged after a few minutes with a bulging tote bag. He reentered the car and got situated before rummaging through the bag and handing you a steamed bun.

Your stomach rumbled, followed by a wave a nausea. The bun in your hand was warm, heating you up, even if just for a minute. The numb needle sensation in your hands subsided as you gripped the package. You thought you couldn't eat but when the scent hit your nose, you were ravenous. Tearing open the packaging, you bit down quickly. When the bun was suddenly gone, you found yourself disappointed but the warmth of the food spread throughout your gut, sending a shiver throughout your body.

You heard the crinkle of another package and looked over to see Yaga offering you another bun. You gladly accepted, taking your time and savoring it. With some food in your stomach, the nausea subsided. After eating, you felt slightly better but your mind was still pretty foggy. You didn't even realize you had fallen asleep again until you were being shaken awake.

This time, it was not Yaga that greeted you but the driver. Standing in the opening of the car door, his face peered in at you as he announced your arrival to Yaga's school. You hadnt been able to get a good look at the driver in the car but when he stepped back from the space next to the open car door, you were able to finally able to get a peek. His suit hung limply off his thin frame, which was reflected in his face and sunken cheekbones. He had dark hair parted down the middle and you would've thought he was pretty nerdy if he was your age with those glasses.

He smiled hesitantly at you, almost as if it was unnatural to him. He looked nervous and you could've sworn you saw a bead of sweat roll down his forehead. You managed a weak smile back as you sat up again. You panicked as you quickly realized your phone was missing. The driver jolted and exclaimed a quick acknowledgement of your confusion. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out your phone and handed it to you.