My feet drag consistently across the hard cobblestone path and murky puddles of water, tearing up the water behind my quick moving feet. The torrential downpour continues ceaselessly, my dead cold body barely able to fight the roaring wind. Giving a short shiver, I pull both sides of my coat closer for the little bit of extra warmth it provides.
Running faster, I fumble, my foot hydroplaning on a puddle taking the rest of me with it. Surroundings a blur, I reach out trying to grasp something solid through the thick surrounding fog from the winter storm. Falling on my ass, I consider staying there for a while as my pants were completely drenched. Deciding against it, releasing a short sigh, I pick myself up and continue with my run to get out of the bad weather.
I've never been one for the cold seasons and rain. Scenes of a lonely childhood, always being the one at fault, the fucking cause of everything, came to mind. Nights alone where no one comes home, no food, a shitty rundown apartment and leaky roof in a shared bedroom. Oh the nostalgia, I really don't miss it. Others found an interest in sports, friends and social groups. Finding hobbies that wholeheartedly defined and completed them. Being great at something like kicking a ball or painting a picture, I never could stand out in such a way. Running away from my problems was all I had ever really seemed to be good at. Town to town, state to state, never settling in one place for long. Leaving my parents behind at the age of 15, in hindsight, obviously wasn't a wise choice. Years later and I'm still feeling the after effects of a lack of education and for the better part of 2 years, being essentially homeless.
My eyes lock on to a hazy structure emerging from the ethereal fog. A lightning bolt flaring up on what I can only assume is the distant mountains, followed by a loud crackling assaulting my ears, scares me shitless. I subconsciously push it to the back of my mind after confirming it's not a threat.
The structure I quickly approach, a broken down, abandoned cabin - and no, not the 'in the woods' variety - is my current home. Slightly ajar door, ominous sounds coming from the cabin, telltale signs that someone was over. I do not appreciate visitors. Every drug-fueled moron I've had to chase out that has almost pushed me to the brink of violence is unsettling. Shy, quiet, timid, these are the exact words someone would use to describe my personality, had I ever chosen to open up to any real degree. Standing just a breath away, I resolve my inner turmoil to barely adequate levels. Shoving the door open, I'm greeted to the sight of a young women. 17, 18, 22, I could never really tell. 'Young adult' was as close as I would be able to define it. I can't deny that I never could guess age or character well. She had short blonde hair and a facial expression that basically screamed surprise.
"Who are you?" the unknown woman in question inquired. "You're in my home," I bluntly interject. "Sorry." She released a small sigh before slumping onto my floor. "The rain came out of nowhere." She was right, which had put me into a metaphorical stalemate. I was not prepared to deal with this. "Alright, just leave after it stops then?" She curtly responds with a nod. Kicking a young lady out into the thick storm just metres behind where I am standing didn't sit well in my head after all. Throwing a few additional precautionary glances her way, I reassess.
Shitty day, shitty weather, a young woman in my home. Can't kick her out because my guilty conscience wouldn't allow it. This day is just getting better and better. The woman's eyes give me suspicious looks as I reach outside for some firewood. Tracking the logs in my hand, she seems on edge. I place the logs into the barely alight fireplace. Before long a warmth radiates through the room that my frail soaking frame latches on to as I make myself comfortable in front of the heat source. It doesn't take long for my world of silence to come crashing down as she attempts to strike up a conversation. She appears to ponder something before finally speaking up after a few well placed coughs as to what I suppose were to get my attention. "Is it only you here?"
"... Yeah."
Her eyes trace my facial features, as if committing them to memory.
"For how long? You can't even be 18."
"17"
My short and sweet replies are clearly irking at her. Luckily, as I had hoped, she gave up due to my unwillingness.
Looking away I attempt to dry my clothes as well as you can without removing them, which I'd like to add, is not very fucking well. I was so saturated that my finger tips even had taken on the outer appearance of prunes. I take my sopping wet shoes off and lay them by the fire, several deep holes in the soles releasing built up mud over the place. Next, I take my socks off too. My feet immediately start feeling better. It amazes me how much uncomfortable conditions can ruin your mood without your awareness.
As my feet dry I take the occasional glance at the woman to ascertain that she isn't a threat, just an annoyance. Lightning roars across the vast gray sky, leaving a purple remnant in my vision in the nearby window. "Storm has a few hours left, at the very least," I think to myself, "I'm stuck with her until then, unless she decides to leave early, preferably." I eventually lose focus and space out.
Today was wasted, no money, very little food, can't hold down a job because I seem sketchy and the weathers shit. The only thing left to ruin my day was to get mugged by this woman, I wouldn't put it past my luck. I'd have moved back in with my parents had I thought they'd let me, but sadly, that wasn't the kind of people they were. Drugged up selfish assholes, couldn't even maintain a house or family if they tried. God dammit, why am I like this? Always finding a reason to be angry, to get distracted. I really should focus on the stranger.
My brain constantly seeks ways to distract itself, always diverting and seeking out any form of entertainment. Finding trends in car number plates, meaning where there is none, or just simply reminding me I'd seen the car 2 weeks earlier. I take my phone with a cracked screen out of my pocket, checking the time. 4:23 PM, 3 numbers, coincidentally the last number is also 3. There are two minute numbers, 2 and 3, the same as the middle number, 2, in quantity. Finally, both minute numbers added together equal 5, while there is only one number for the hours, 5 minus 1 equals 4, the same as the hours. Constantly doing stupid things like that, trying to make the mundane less usual, the stressful less nerve racking. You could say that I was odd, that I have no future and I'd verbally chastise you. However, silently I'd agree with you. Society simply had no room for people like me.
Staring back down towards my phone, I unlock it, flipping one by one through the pages of my mostly useless games and apps. I hesitate before giving up and just turning my data on, I shouldn't use too much hopefully. Loading up the browser, I navigate to a news website and check for any updates. 'The raining season will continue for at least another week,' great. Scrolling through the pages I see another interesting headline, '12 dead in latest cloud 10 attack in the USA.' Morbidly curious, I decide to click on it and read further.
If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
'As of late, Cloud 10, the infamous terrorist group behind several attacks in recent times has stepped up the severity of their crimes.
Known for their extreme brutality and lack of ethics and care for their victims, they have continued to dish out frightening and depraved attacks all for seemingly little to no economic gain.
Their victims, often torn limb from limb, smeared across the ground or simply a pulpy mess, one can only imagine what their final moments might have been.'
I swipe to scroll further down the page, into the comments.
'DigBick23 - I can't believe scary shit like this is still going on.'
'Yggdrasil09 - Idk guys, how do we know it isn't the government trying to stir us up again, just like 9/11?'
'Josh_Owns - Dude just shut up, seriously.'
I hold back a slight snort at the conspiracy nuts already arriving on scene. My thoughts turn more serious, I should probably feel something for these victims, however, I don't. The idea of this happening to me is terrifying in itself, but it's not enough for me to feel sorry for the people that encounter the group.
I stop looking at the comments and look over towards my worn out table. I eagerly eye the bowl of fruit, feeling my stomach chime in at roughly the same time. Grasping a large red apple, I sink my teeth into its soft, juicy flesh. The woman seems to stare at my bowl of fruit for a while, eyes lingering on the oranges. I chuck one towards her, for reasons I'm not sure I understand myself. Her eyes widen as if I've attacked her, she flinches, yet still manages to catch the orange. Hungry young lady, no food or personal belongings, how could I resist? I don't know my limits at all, being a guy has its downsides, as you can imagine.
"Thank you." Her soft voice reaches my ears. I respond in kind with a simple, "No worries."
What now? I'm not feeling up to socialising, just yet at least. Maybe if I knew what to talk about, which I certainly did not. Perhaps I could ask what she's doing around here? No, too creepy. I need to watch my words, lest I come off the wrong way.
"Do you have somewhere to be?" It's a start.
"Uhh, no," she pauses before continuing, "I've been looking for someone around here, and I wasn't expecting to be done for a while." Heh, curious. I consider exactly who she'd be looking for out of town, considering it was just farmers, lost drunks and then me. There's no way I'd be able to find out without asking, because neither of the options really made sense. Modern clothes, smart look about her, what could she have to do with anyone out here?
"Maybe I know them?" I am pretty curious now.
"Well, I think he lives around here, often seen walking through the area too."
She hesitates a little before opening up more on the subject. She's starting to seem more... friendly? Could she possibly mean me? I keep a pretty low profile so I can't imagine why. "Do you know what he looks like?" I start, but she shakes her head. "Age, name?" She looks me dead in the eye for a moment.
"All I know is that he's in his teens." She really doesn't have much to go on, but that automatically narrows it down to myself and a few farmers sons.
"Why are you looking for them?" Waiting a while before interjecting she responds with a question. "Do you really live alone here?"
"Yeah? Why?" What's her angle?
"I work with my mum at the homeless shelter in town, she sent me to look for a boy around here, you I think," her eyes and general facial expression seems to soften, "Check if you were okay, all that stuff. She'd have done it but thought you'd do better with someone younger." Ahh, one of the farmers must have ratted me out. I choke up. This never happens, since when did anyone care?
"I'm fine."
"You sure?" She seems to tighten her gaze on me, as if trying to read my thoughts.
"I'm sure." I wasn't very convincing and I knew it.
"Okay," she pauses, "Could you pass your phone?" What could she possibly need it for, the time? She could just ask, so probably not.
"Why?" I voice my question.
"Surprise."
"Sure." I get up and pass my phone after unlocking it. She fiddles around for about a minute before smiling, a grin of satisfaction on her face.
"Here," she passes it back, "Call me if you ever need anything, okay?" I can see that she added her contact to my phone, 'Kira'.
"Sure." The girl with the roughly shoulder length blonde hair was named Kira. Interesting name.
"Is your name short for anything?"
"Kiralee. How'd you know?"
"Lucky guess." She nods, acknowledging that I didn't really know.
A few awkward minutes pass before anything else happens.
"So, how long have you been living here?" I was actually expecting a question like this sooner or later after I hadn't answered earlier.
"4, maybe 5 months."
"You okay being all by your self?"
"Yeah, I'm fine." I really wasn't. I could barely sustain myself. I was obviously way too proud to admit it though. Terrible source of unreliable income, shady people around, finding someone like me dead in a gutter one night wouldn't be too surprising. Luckily, or rather, unluckily, depending on how I look at it, she had dropped the subject. The whole situation had me tense. I wasn't used to conversations like this. I'm accustomed to feeling beneath someone, less than them, a waste of their time. This lady, Kira, she had none of that animosity. Quite frankly it was unsettling.
All the running earlier was finally catching up to me. My exhausted and drained body slouches over and I lose track of time. Before I know it, I'm woken up by a soft hand on my head. Fingers running through my hair, I pretend not to be awake, staying still, trying to understand the foreign sensation. After calming down and feeling my heartbeat slow right down, I give a soft yawn for emphasis, then slowly open my eyes. Our eyes lock for a few seconds before I break away.
"Sorry," I feel my cheeks heat up, "I was running a lot before."
"It's fine. I was just waiting for you to wake up before leaving." I confirm that the storm has subsided through the window and then face her again. "Fair enough."
"Be sure to call if you need anything, okay?"
"I will." If it meant I might get to spend some more time with her, I probably would. I had gotten very used to being alone the last few years. That hadn't necessarily started when I ran away from home either. Giving a curt nod and short wave towards me, I watch her thin frame leave my cabin. I wish I had the courage to say something about my regretful situation. I inspect my room, making sure everything is untouched as I hear the solid door shut. I peek into my bin, confirming that she had placed my apple core and her orange peel in it while I was sleeping. Kiralee, was it? She seemed okay, trustworthy even.
I pick out the core of the apple from the bin. Lightly passing it between my hands, I inspect it closely. After confirming it is ordinary, I stare at it intensely. Blood thumping in my head, I feel the dull ache of an oncoming migraine. The fleshy core shimmers then ripples slightly as it gains weight and assumes a shiny appearance. It was now solid iron. I feel the usual nosebleed coming on. Drip, right on time, a drop of my metallic red blood lands on the wooden floor. "It's always like this," I mutter quietly to myself as I change the apple back to its previous form. Only, it wasn't the same, it was mushy and the colour was far too brown. The pain intensifies as I let out a groan. I put the slimy substance, previously an apple, into the bin once again. Sighing, I head over to my bed. "I'm going to need a longer nap".