Simply A Sacrifice

Chapter 12: Crazy

I want to start dedicating chapters to people who I have noticed supporting this story because I think it's a nice way to say thank you. Thank you to devotedreading, who has supported this story even when I changed profiles :) 

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My eyes were aching from focusing on the page for so long. The light through the front door was fading and I'd had to turn on the overhead light which was not exactly built for reading in. Despite my discomfort, I'd really gotten into the book. It had so many layers. I had not gotten the opportunity to read much fiction in my life and I actually really enjoyed it. It was an escape into someone else's mind and story. Their joys and triumphs, you got to experience with them. Their problems you could leave between the pages. Like waking up from a bad dream, you felt a slow, warm relief wash over you when you realized that you did not have to deal with that.

I closed the book and leant back in the chair. Staring up at the ceiling, I tried to remember who I was and what day it was. In the middle of my reverie, the bedroom door opened and Adahy shuffled out.

"What year is it?" he mumbled in a husky voice.

"My sentiments exactly," I replied, gesturing to the book on the table. He smiled, dazing me more than I cared to admit.

"Did you enjoy it then?" he asked.

"I loved it. What's next?" I replied in a voice not unlike a small child's. I was literally on the edge of my seat, eagerly awaiting his response.

He chuckled and disappeared, returning moments later with a thin book. He handed it to me and I read the cover – Animal Farm by George Orwell. That was a weird name for a book. I shrugged and took it anyway.

Adahy looked over at the door and the seconds later I heard a crunch of dirt. My eyes widened and I made to get out of the chair and seek better shelter when a woman's face appeared at the door.

"Hi!" she said brightly, making direct eye contact with me. I blinked at her in response. She was wearing a red apron that was covered in flour. Underneath it poked out a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt. She was holding a dish and let go of it, momentarily, with one hand to sweep a few wisps of chocolate brown hair out of her equally brown eyes. There was nothing wispy about the rest of her hair, which was tied back in a thick pony tail that fell half way down her back.

Undeterred by the lack of response, she turned her attention to Adahy.

"I brought supper!" She said, thrusting the dish in his direction. "It's enchiladas – fresh from the oven."

I finally found my voice, "I'm vegetarian," I blurted out. My eyes widened at how rude that must have seemed.

"I knew I would like you! I used soya mince, don't worry. I'm vegetarian too." She beamed at me.

"This is Taylor," Adahy finally introduced her. "Taylor, you know this is Ama-Tala. She wants to be called Tala."

"Tala? Wolf? That's a coincidence," Taylor said staring at me. I frowned, about to ask her what exactly she meant by that when Adahy interrupted.

"Tell Chris we say thank you for the meal!"

"Chris? I slaved away over this meal. I mean, just look at my apron." Taylor narrowed her eyes at him.

"Nice try. We both know you can't cook to save your own life. And flour? Please. Did you make the tortillas from scratch?"

Taylor breathed a heavy sigh and threw her hands up into the air. "Whatever, Adahy. I'll show you one of these days." She moved back towards the door. "Do you have clothes, Tala? Those don't look like your size. I'm sure you'd fit into mine. I can lend you some?"