Roaming Souls

Hubby's Sweets

I wake up vexed by the uncomfortable heat the sun applies on my cheek, causing it to blister, somehow.

I slept till the next morning...

I drink some water, then eat another biscuit. Only five are left. I get on my knees to face the bag, then rearrange the water bottle, biscuits, and everything back inside. Then I place both straps on my shoulders.

It's time to go.

I can't stand the isolation here, and my inability to remember anything about my personal life. It seems to me that this place is trapping my memory , just like it's trapping me, and it the sensation this place cause- it's just so strange, it makes me feel like my chest is strangling itself over my helpless stomach, all with the aid of my perplexed brain. In short, it doesn't feel good, at all.

I walk East, as usual.

My legs walk on their own as I concern myself with my puzzle of thoughts. I trip, a lot, because of the presence of these random twigs and roots of trees so old that they look like they lost the track of time.

There are memories holding on their branches, right between the leaves. Their existence there make me feel so small, almost unacknowledged.

It makes me jealous.

I walk, trip some more, then walk again, no brakes are found in between, the trees begin to lessen in number as I stroll further, they're younger, too.

A few steps forward, I become aware of the artificial nature in front of me. Freshly trimmed grass, flowers, not so wild in there stature, and... side walks.

I return back and hide between the real trees. I touch my brown mush of hair then run my fingers through it with a vicious manner. Why? you may ask, because everyone out there looks so neat and tidy, and then I come into picture , and it all just doesn't fit with the perfection found out there.

I can't understand how people look so organized and focused as they run. I don't even understand what they're running from.

I look through the bag for something to tie my hair with, eventually, I find a small black rubber band. I tie my hair up in a messy manner ( my fingers are shivering like crazy) then go out.

Luckily, not a single snob has got the time to look at me, but the children are a whole different story.

They stare quietly, their wide eyes are trying to get the picture, most of them lose interest with a blink of an eye, some carry on staring, but they eventually return to their meaningless activities.

I walk out slowly, as if the ground beneath my feet will suddenly crack and swallow me in.

What will I do now? What is this place? How will I ask people without sounding so suspicious? What will I ask them for in the first place?!

This is all what I wonder about as my feet drag me to a store, so small in stature and fragile too, it looks cozy, in some particular manner. This is what I wonder about as I walk in, to Hubby's Sweets.

A small fact:
Somewhere, in a dark forest, a creature extremely pale and cold stretches it's skeleton hand and grabs a black shirt, a wet one. The creature takes a sniff. It smells awful, as awful as the smell of what's in the bottle found by the shirt. But there is some different scent on the shirt, the scent of a child- a girl... a girl who survived. The creature's hands ooze fire and the shirt trapped between its palms turns to ashes.

That girl is not meant to live.

Hey guys! Sorry for the short update but I felt like writing a fast update, so I wrote one. Seriously hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as you enjoyed the previous ones ( or hopefully more) I thank everyone who is reading this and I promise you that I'll update as soon as I can. :)
~Sun-Bird