RED HOOD

Five

I was floating, as if the wind carried me. Whatever held me was gentle, the movements smooth. Cradled against a warm body, I tried not to remember. Something bad had happened—but I didn't want to know. I felt peaceful now. Safe.

A bell rang out, piercing the calm. It rang again, familiar, like a doorbell. Followed by hard knocking. Voices blurred into my ears. There was Nana's voice, then Thurston's. Then a third voice, unfamiliar, saying, "I don't think it's as bad as it looks."

I was placed on a flat surface, the cold sensation igniting my senses. Pain sliced through me. My heart began racing as I tried to wake, intense physical pain screaming from my hand and wrist. I opened my eyes, sat straight up, and screamed, thrashing at the air.

"Leave me alone! Help!!"

My face flushed with the sudden movement, and the room began swimming in circles, white spots dancing over my vision. As I fell back, two large, strong hands caught me.

"Easy there," a boy smiled. He was my age, with a chiseled jaw, blonde hair, and blue eyes. He was undeniably handsome.

A sudden rush of danger gripped me. I pulled back. "Who are you?!"

"Kate!" Nana said, taking my hands in hers. "Kate, you're okay. You're safe."

I was disoriented. The strange boy stood in my grandparent's kitchen, wet and shirtless. Despite my grandparents' attentions, I was totally focused on him. Something about him stirred something in my core, unsettling me.

Our eyes connected. He smiled.

His rugged features and muscled body placed him as an athlete. His smirk and demeanor indicated a cockiness I never liked in boys. The blue of his eyes were light and deep. The way he crossed his arms made them bulge. "You shouldn't try to move yet," he said, his voice soothing and calm.

But it didn't calm me. It had quite the opposite reaction. "Who are you? Why are you here? What did you see in the forrest?"

"Kate!" Nana cried. "This is Eric. Our neighbor. He saved you."

"She's lost a lot of blood," Thurston said. "She's out of it."

I looked at myself. I was covered in blood. My mind tried to pool together what happened, but as I thought back, there was a haze of cloud over my memory as if I were looking through a fog. I had seen my mother. She'd stabbed me. Then I was somewhere else, being burned alive. No...that couldn't be right.

Dozens of questions littered my mind. I asked the first thing that popped into my head. "Where's your shirt?"

Eric laughed. "On your hand. I used my shirt to tourniquet your arm so you didn't bleed to death."

I looked down at my forearm. It was wrapped in what had once been a white shirt. Now, it was soaked through in bright red. The sight of so much blood was dizzying. Thurston appeared beside me, applying pressure where the boy previously held my arm. I didn't meet my grandfather's eyes, but instead kept my gaze on the stranger in our kitchen.

The teenage boy was barefoot. Other than his wet shorts, he was naked. With his muscles laid bare before me, I couldn't help admitting his attractiveness. There was light blonde hair on his arms and chest, trailing down his stomach. He had the physique of a pro athlete and the smile of a magazine model. If I was any other girl, I might swoon.

Instead, I was distracted by my confusion at what had happened in the woods. Had he attacked me? Or had he saved me? Had that really been my mother? Or a ghost? Or something else? Was it real? Had I imagined it from my lack of sleep and lack of food? If so, then how had I hurt myself?