Dead...Yet alive

14. Luke

  Camping? You have got to be kidding me.... "luke more over you're suffocating me with you're body." Currently I'm sitting on top of carter because she cheated at a game of hide and seek. Kiddish I know but hey we're teenagers. "Nope not until you say you cheated and that I'm the hottest person ever." She laughed smacking me in the stomach cause of me to fall back wards a little bit. Just a little.

  "Luke I will say you are very-" she punches me again. "- determined." She takes her elbow and nudges me in the thigh. "-to get me to say you're handsome hmm." I look down at her to see her smirking. "- sounds like someone's a little insecure?" I shake my head looking down at her she's so beautiful and she doesn't even know it. "Know what I'll get you back soon and I won't tell you when but I'll get off of you because I wouldn't wanna flatten you to a pancake." She sighs before mumbling a thank Jesus and I get up.

  It's dark out by time we make it to the tent and lay down and settle for the night. It's now day 3 of us being dead yet alive in the world and it's going okay. Minus the small breakdowns one of us has. I hated showing how vulnerable I could be. It shows I'm weak and I'm not weak in strong. But it's hard to show that even when I'm around carter. It's almost like she understands In a way. When I'm in desperate need to scream out my frustrations when no one really understood it's like she got me. It just clicked.

  The sky was a dark black with little tiny dots of light the lit up the sky when the mood not far behind them. The trees swayed silently in the warm wind that sliced the air. "You're not what people say you are." I hear carter say when I look over at her she's looking at the tents ceiling. "You're different, you see things differently then other people. I just- I just don't get it. We're total opposites yet I feel like you get me." I stay quite while I listen to her explain everything that's running through her mind no matter how off topic she truly gets I didn't care. I love to hear her talk. "You know when I was little."  I tell her. "I used to wake up earlier then anybody else just so I could sit on my window sill and what have the sun rise. It gave me a sense of- I don't know- I felt safe and secure. Like I could take a deep breathe and everything. Would be okay." She looked at me now as I looked at her.

  Her eyes sparkled with the lap we have gotten from my attic, the sleeping bag was pulled up to cover half her face. " when I was a little girl and I always got scared." She closed her eyes now pausing probably remembering the time that she's telling me. ".. every time I would be afraid or get scared I'd run to the kitchen and get a pot from the cabinet and a wooden spoon as my self defense. I'd wear the pot on my head and run up to my closet before hiding out and waiting till I heard my mothers voice."  Her eyes were still closed was she took a shaky breath. "Why did you wait for you're mothers voice?" I was starting to be a little curious.

  "Because when my father was alone with me the screaming would coming, the fist collided, and the scars were added...." she trailed off as I watch her fall asleep soundly next to me.

Only one question remained now in my thought.

   What did she mean by scars were added?