The Doll That Saved Team Crafted

Chapter Four

"Come on Biggums, we're leaving now"

The sun shines down upon a stone court yard. The intense heat of the day seems to bake everything to a crisp. Even so, the sound of arrows thudding into wood rings out in the otherwise silent yard. A young man with brown hair and eyes, a checkered hoodie and golden dog tags, stands facing the archery targets. Sweat trickles down his back from how long he's been outside training. For what, he doesn't know or care. Mitchell Hughes, former member of Team Crafted, just needs something to do instead of think about his problems.

     Leaving the group with his childhood friend and brother-in-arms, Mitch didn't think much would change about how they lived. Traveling across the world and helping who ever needed it had become second nature to the Canadian. His brother thought otherwise. 'We can't just pretend that he never existed. Honor the past, but the future is for us to decide', he said. Mitch didn't want things to change, but he accepted the fact that things were different. Still, 'Why should we have to disappear?' He argued. In the end, the two went there separate ways. Mitch had never been on his own for as long as he could remember. It was a new feeling of loneliness that quickly made him hate the world for the life it had stolen from him. So he didn't help. No, all he does is stay in his walls, ignoring the rest of the world that misses him dearly.

I loose another arrow at the target and watch it hit the bull's eye. A few more soon follow, tracing a pattern only I can see. Hitting my mark every single time never gets old as the arrows fly away from me. Load, draw, aim, shoot. The familiar steps repeat themselves without me having to think about it. The only difference is when I reach into my quiver, but only feel empty air. I huff in annoyance and let my arm drop to my side. Walking the distance to the target, I wrap my hands around the arrow shaft and pull them out one by one. The mundane task keeps my thoughts from straying very far. I slide my finger against one of the sides of an arrow tip, disappointed when it doesn't leave a cut. I'll have to sharpen them. It'll be dark by the time I'm done with that.

     Sudden footsteps have my attention snapping over to my side. A middle aged man hesitantly stops in his tracks, holding an open letter in his hands. "U-Umm, BajanC-Camdian? Mitch? There's a l-letter here that you might l-like-", he ties to say, but I quickly cut him off. "Go away. I don't like visitors", I growl, having picked up the habit from Jerome. The thought of him just worsens my mood. "I R-Really think that you'll w-want-", he starts again. "I said, GO AWAY!", I scream, throwing my bow at him. The man yelps and runs back the way he had come, barely dodging my bow smacking him in the face. I'm a little upset about missing my target.

     I walk over to retrieve my bow, stopping in front of it when I see the damage. The string snapped. The string on my bow snapped. I sink to my knees beside the wooden treasure, not daring to let myself get all emotional about it. I mean, it's not like that bow was my most prized possession or anything........ who am I kidding? I rub my eyes before picking up the broken bow. Carefully unwinding the black cloth on the grip, it pulls away to reveal a leather grip much more elegant looking. I know for a fact that the vine designs in the leather took days to get right. Probably more with how much Jerome hated sitting still. Between the threaded green vines is a mixture of different shades of blue, all working together to picture a small diamond axe. Looks like this is bow is just as broken as I am.

     I don't know why I still have it. It was a birthday present to me right before Jerome and I joined Adam in 'Team Crafted'. I still have no idea how he hid it from me while he was making it. I can't help but chuckle, remembering the strange excitement he had all of that day. I never could of imagined that he'd work that hard to make something for me. I kept the bow, even though wearing has made the accuracy change over the years. I've just kept adjusting and figuring out of to shoot it differently. I probably suck at shooting a normal bow by now. I cradle the wooden shaft in my hands, letting the memories of how it used to help so many play through my head.

     I eventually stand up with my bow, ready to try and repair it with a new string. Something catches my eye before I can walk away. The man from earlier must have dropped it, because a small, wooden doll lays on the ground. I mentally sigh as I walk over to it. I wonder what little girl is going to be missing this? I laugh at the thought of someone's doll ending up in the 'scary court yard' as the kids called it. But I stop laughing after I see the doll up close. Oh Adam..... why did you have to leave us? The little doll is almost an exact replica, down to the painted-on laces of it's shoes. I reach down and hesitantly pick it up, treating it as though it's a live bomb about to explode.

I remember meeting them all like it was yesterday. Adam, Ty, Ian, and Jason were wandering around in the forest when they had stumbled upon a small cabin in the middle of nowhere. The closest town was two day's travel on foot. Jerome and I had already hidden ourselves in the trees when they got near. We had been living together out there for almost our whole lives at that point. Neither of us were very thrilled at getting visitors. We weren't used to meeting new people, and the last human interaction we had didn't go very well. Hybrids aren't very popular outside of their own territories.

     Adam had yelled out for anyone who might be near, but we didn't answer him. I remember Ty actually being the first one to spot us, locking eye contact with me. He told the group that he'd be right back and walked out into the forest. He obviously wanted to talk to me alone. He hadn't seen Jerome yet, so we still had the advantage. We both silently moved though the trees and tracked him as he moved away from the others. Ty then stopped and stood still, watching the forest around him. We took that as our cue. Jerome stayed up in the trees as I dropped down into a crouch a few yards from the stranger. I cautiously had scanned him head to toe, Ty doing the same. I know I probably looked horrible, ripped clothes and dirty skin. I didn't know any better at the time. My bow was of corse in my hands with an arrow notched, string still slacked.

     I asked why Ty was there, my bad grammar probably confusing him. Ty told me that they were just passing through on their way to the next city. He seemed a little awkward trying to explain to me what exactly they did. He asked me to come and meet everyone else, and I said only if Jerome can come. Jerome then dropped from his tree, landing with a loud thump and shining axe slung over his back. Ty did step back away from him, but he didn't run. He was actually really excited to meet a hybrid. We all talked a bit more before going to meet the others. Long story short, we never left. A life of adventure seemed like so much fun after living in solitude for most of my life. Looks like I'm right back at stage one. Expect this time I'm entirely alone.

     I've sitting behind my walls for a while now. What I'm doing now won't change anything. It won't bring Adam back, won't help me see Jerome again. I miss them all so much. I even miss DERP for crying out loud! What I wouldn't give to have the old days back....... but things can't ever be quite the same. Should I be trying harder to make something from the broken pieces of Team Crafted? I'm sure as heck not doing anything useful right now. All the people who needed help didn't just disappear, but we did. We abandoned all the people who used to look up to us. Just because we're not who we once were, doesn't mean that we can't keep making people happy. I'm done hiding.

     I drop the doll back onto the ground, and with a broken bow still clutched in my hand, I march over to the big gate that's been separating me from the rest of the world. Hesitating only for a moment, I slam open the iron doors and storm out from beside my walls. Following an overgrown dirt trail, I make my way down the hillside and into a large village. I spot who I'm looking for immediately, seeing the farmer talking to someone dressed like a blacksmith. I walk towards the pair. I hear a couple of gasps and people whispering as they catch sight of me. My broken bow is still in my hands, ornate grip revealed for all to see. I'm down hiding, sick of it actually. I can't be mad at other people for bad things happing. Jerome was right.

     I stop walking behind the farmer, making the blacksmith stop talking and stare at me. The farmer must have been confused until he turned around. He sees me standing right behind him, looking up at me because I'm taller. "B-Bajan?", he stutters. "Just call me Mitch", I softly say, a small smile on my lips, "Sorry for scaring you earlier, I haven't been in the best mood. Now, you said that you had a letter for me?". The farmer smiles, before handing me an open letter. It's addressed to this village, and to 'Bajan Canadian'. I don't even care that someone's already read it. I take out the paper inside and start reading it, an insane grin breaking out on my face.

     "Th-Thank you for b-bringing me this. And thank you for having patience with me", I stutter, still smiling. I hand the letter back to the farmer, before spinning on my heel and walking away. I simply walk out of the village with a stupid grin still on my face. I know where to go now. I know what I have to do. I hope that I'll see everyone soon.