Song: Lullaby by Sleeping at Last
***
Ok, you can trust him, I tell myself. Tell him your real name, go on.
I take a deep breath. "You know, Mitchell, I've been meaning to tell you-"
Suddenly, he clamps a hand over my mouth, silencing me. I'm just about to scold him when suddenly, I hear a blood curdling scream. He obviously hears it too, as he turns to stare at me, horrified.
"Get down," I hiss, pushing between his shoulder blades as I duck down. Only he doesn't duck down.
"No, we need to help," he says, grabbing my wrist and pulling me back up.
I wrench my wrist frim his grip. "Are you nuts? We have to hide. Someone could find us here!" I argue.
"I can't sit here and do nothing," he shoots back.
"Yes, you can," I retort.
Mitchell ignores me, throwing open his door.
"Mitchell!" I whisper yell, "Stop trying to be some kind of a hero!"
He once again ignores me, jogging off deeper into the woods. Reluctantly, and too afraid to stay behind on my own, I follow him.
"You're the biggest idiot I know," I say, falling into step beside him. "I hope you know that."
"Thanks for the great observation," he huffs, picking up the pace.
I roll my eyes. "If this gets us killed, I'll make sure you get sent straight Hell."
Mitchell smirks. "And I'll make sure to drag you with me."
We hear a scream once more, this time a much more audible cry for help. We both run faster, our snow covered boots beginning to soak through on the bottoms.
Mitchell comes to a stop in a small clearing, and I skid to a stop behind him. He pulls his knife out of his pocket, clicking it open.
A tall boy stands before us, holding a much smaller boy against him. The smaller boy can't be much more than ten years old. The taller boy holds a knife firmly to the smaller boy's throat.
The small boy stares at us, his eyes wide with fear.
"Put him down," Mitchell orders to the taller boy.
The taller boy stares straight at Mitchell, almost ignoring me entirely. Taking a deep breath, I use the opportunity to my advantage. I crouch down so I'm eye level with the younger boy.
"Hey, look at me," I tell the younger boy in my most soothing voice. He turns his wide eyes to me. "There you go! Don't worry about them, just keep looking at me, okay?"
Mitchell and the tall boy continue to bicker back and forth, and I don't listen to a word. The only thing I pay attention to is when the knife moves away from the boy's throat.
"What's your name?" I ask the small boy. My palms begin to sweat, despite the cold.
The boy gulps. "N-Nathan," he chokes, his voice quivering.
